


The Edge

by Claudia_Holt



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Anti-Hero, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Original Fiction, Original Slash, Original Universe, Rating: M, Rating: NC17, Romance, Science Fiction, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shota, Silent Protagonist, Slash, Suspense, Violence, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:50:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 70,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2760209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claudia_Holt/pseuds/Claudia_Holt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A foreboding building occupies the reaches of an unnatural desert.<br/>A man of no words walks a path of lonesome vengeance,<br/>while a boy tries to piece together who he is after a life of slavery.<br/>This is the story of their triumphs, struggles and the journey of redemption.<br/>Can they save each other, or are they just doomed to repeat their own violent history?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think- good or bad.  
> I would love any constructive criticism to help myself become a better writer <3
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> Thanks so much for giving my story a try!  
> If you enjoyed it, please consider giving the edge a review on the Kindle market place. 
> 
> I love you all!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our 'heroes' take center stage, and their journey begins.

\----------------------------------------

Part One

\----------------------------------------

Over time, one can mentally turn off their mind, and that was what the boy had done. After sitting day after day under the patchwork cloth hanging over head, one learned to turn off many things. The physical and the mental.

The sand was warm beneath the skin of his legs, but he could not tell if it was from the numerous other boys surrounding him or if it was from the heat of the day. Clothed identically, only a dingy white loin cloth covered their bodies. Despite the sparse clothing, those closest to the center perspired communally while a weak breeze barely flowed over their heads.

The boy was positioned closer to the edge, but he did not count himself lucky. All of them eventually took their turn in that humid center. Together their numbers were were fewer than fifty, but they did not acknowledge each other. Each of them simply existed apathetically in their own private hell.

The boy had been gazing off into the distance again, much like he had been doing for his entire life. It was always easier to dull yourself to the pain rather than confront it. After all, what use was fighting a predetermined fate? His entire life had been decided since the day of his birth.  
All of theirs had.

Chosen at random, they were expected to provide for a larger populous. A populous with only a handful of women. In this world it was not unusual for one to go their entire lives never seeing a member of the opposite sex. In fact, some men that passed through suggested that women were just sexual abnormalities. “We all came from The Compound, thus we must all return to The Compound,” one had whispered into the boy’s ear “it’s only natural.” 

And that was the fact of it. Men would come from near and far. Many were nomadic, coming in groups or traveling alone. If one looked hard enough, one could see them coming out of the desert, small dots on the horizon under an unforgiving sun.  
But no one was ever looking.

Under the spell of a self induced trance , they all merely existed until the shout of their personal mocking name. After becoming aware that they had been selected, one’s brain would function enough merely to stand up and walk out. It was always safer to be on auto pilot.

That was true everyday, including today, which was a day only slightly different from all the others. Today was the first day he was to be sold as cut. He was to be rented by the hour or by the night with no restrictions on how to be handled. It was a position that meant death, and it was one that he found himself indifferent to.  
After a life of abuse and pain, it seemed only logical to die the same way. 

Marked only by three perfect incisions on the left side of his face, this signified that he was a commodity in which the buyer could destroy with no fear of ramification. It was an option that only attracted the darkest of men. Men who could had the uncontrollable urge to devour. 

The boy was a thin specimen with the gracefulness of a gently waving reed. His head still had a child like roundness to it, but his jaw had slowly started to develop to that of a man’s. His impossibly large brown eyes were framed by thick eyelashes with a scalp shaved impossibly close to his dark skin. He wore the same cloth that they all wore, almost his whole body free to look on. 

On his face, the slices still were still stinging they were so fresh as the morning crept along with aching slowness. Time was an infinite vacuum, absorbing every sense the boy had. Lost in his zen trance, the day could have taken one million years or one minute. In the trance, time was relative.

Boys around him were selected, finding their way to the one room houses deeper into the walled city. Behind those massive stone constructions, they would stay until the next morning, when they would be collected and put into the guarded wooden cage once again. 

Time was a solid liquid, snapping and breaking the boy’s trance. His name was called. He was back in reality.

It was early evening and it would not be long until the boys left would get to eat before being escorted to the beds. It struck him then that he had almost made it through the day.

Standing up, he navigated between the few bodies around him, before breaking into the open night, where a hulking man stood before him. The boy had never seen a man so large, his body incredibly broad with strength, but what was even more troubling was his face.

Under his eyes, where his nose should have been, there was instead a dirty tattered cloth set flat against his skull. As his chest rose and fell with his breath, so did the cloth billow in and out of his nasal cavity. His flesh was a criss cross of very old scars, and around his head he wore a tattered keffiyeh, wrapping around his head and neck. 

His strong arms were wrapped shoulder to hands in a filthy yellow and stained cloth, and on his legs he wore dark and thick harem pants, tucked into old cloth boots. On his back was a large pack reaching above his head. On it were strapped various traveling equipment that swung with his movements.

His eyes dissected the boy when he came into view, but the boy was not brave enough to look directly back. This was a man who had done horrible things. A man with a stench that smelt of blood and death. It was a cloud that hung around him and mixed with the energy of a cobra- tense and ready to strike.

He was a predator inspecting his prey, reaching a grime covered hand out to select the unfortunate soul before him. Suppressing a cringe, the boy with the large brown eyes then knew that this night would be the end.

Drug along by the horror before him, they were both waived through the wide open gate of the compound. Approaching one of the overnight hovels, they entered a small single room abode. The air was dry and warm with only their flesh visible in the dim glow of the evening sun, peering through the uneven gaps of various wood planks arranged to be a crude window. 

The room had been there a long time, as long as the compound itself. It’s hard dirt floors were smooth as stone form the countless feet that had trod here before them, but for now, it was only he and the dark stranger before him. Swinging his equipment on to the ground, his bag landed heavily with a dull thud. It was obvious that the dark man was a nomad, and that everything he owned was stuffed inside the bag.

In the corner sat a wooden bed- the only sturdy piece of furniture in the room. It had a soft mattress, filled to the seams with straw- more for the comfort of the customer than of the boy. The pillows were fashioned out of soft folded cloth in dark colors and there was a warped; dirty mirror the opposite of the bed, bending, reflecting and twisting many versions of the world- a result of a hand made product- just not one made well.  
The only other thing in the room was a table. 

It was a simple table, made of the same wood as the bed with elementary construction- but it was less about the table itself than what had just been placed on top of it. 

On its top there was one burning candle- long and thin, the small flame illuminating the hard face of the man who stood at it. He had drug out a wide roll from his pack, unfurled it across the table’s face. utensils were tucked into thick strips for organizing, all with a tarnished and dark sick look. 

They were medical utensils, once sharp blades now dull but still dangerous. Scalpels in all shapes and sizes, bone saws thick with blood and missing notches, rubber tubes stained with something black and yellow, and mechanical machines meant to bend and stretch. They were all twisted and with dark scorch marks from old and repeated flames. 

The Man selected a small thin knife that glinted in the candle light, while the young boy looked on. 

He stood there, completely exposed, and found his heart now racing. He had been violated so many different ways that he thought he was sure of the motions. The problem arose when the rules were removed, and everything he thought he could expect was thrown out the window. This room was now an unfamiliar place with new rules and no boundaries.

He had known that this was coming. He had known when he received the cuts on his face that very morning. An act done so quickly- so cleanly- he knew instantly how many boys had come before him. How many boys had screamed all through multiple nights, greeting the new day with bruises and burns, cuts and whip marks raised so high that they weeped with thick yellow fluid. 

The man finally turned to him, his frame so large that he quickly blocked out the small amount of light supplied to them- inky blackness shrouding his horrible features. 

Having just reflected on the fact that this would be the beginning of the end for him, the boy swallowed the rising nausea in the pit of his stomach, and tried to quiet his racing heart. 

The remaining light bounced off of the tool in the man’s hand as he approached, his face obscured by darkness. 

There was something so wrong about him-something so inherently wrong. The boy could feel a sickness, not physical but mental- seething out of his sweaty pores. Outside the night was starting to become active- soft cries came through the slits in the windows, and the man continued to step closer to him, while the boy tried to hold back a scream. 

The man reached out his empty hand to touch him, and it landed on the boy’s cheek, his young flesh tempered by hours under the sun. It was hot and sticky but young and firm. The man swallowed audibly and the boy tried not to flinch at the touch, tried not to gag at his smell- all the years of working and self-restraint came down to this event- and the boy was still not prepared for it. 

Suddenly the man suddenly grabbed his neck, quickly and violently- the muscles spasming under his clutch as the boy was choked. The boy felt his body being thrown to the bed with such force, that as his hips struck the bed frame the headboard slammed against the wall. 

He felt the man analyzing him, sizing him up, and taking in his form with eyes that seemed to eat him. He came closer until their knees touched- the boy on his back- the man above him with his terrifying gaze, the cloth being pulled against that hole in his face with his ragged breathing. 

He leaned down, using his free hand to hold the boy’s hands above his head, so hard that he could feel the pain in his bones. The man was closer now, and the boy could not help but jolt with terror as he leaned his monstrous face close to his. The knife just barely out of his peripheral vision. 

The man nipped at his lobes with sharp teeth- sighs of anticipation shaking his form. His energy was as tightly wound as a crossbow, just waiting to be let out- but it seemed the man wanted to make this event as long and drawn out as possible, it was almost as if he wanted to remember it. 

His hand with the scalpel went lower- the blade dancing against the boy’s yet unmarred skin. It was a tense moment and the boy felt a cry escaping his lips. It was a cry of fear when he felt the metal touch his skin and the man made a noise- could it have been a short barking laugh? The boy could not say as the knife found his loin cloth- and cut it free. The fabric opened before the brutal man and he took in the sight with a sharp hiss of satisfaction. 

The boy wanted to struggle- to scream and to fight- but this was just a scream echoing in the back of his head. He had no options, no other choice. A tool did not simply refuse its purpose, it was crafted for a reason- and that reason was not meant for it to understand. 

The man leaned away in order to take in the view he was so clearly enjoying- his large and dirty hands held the boy’s ankles now at a painful angle, spread eagle and leaning the boy’s feet towards his head. This let the man take in the full presentation of the boys hole. 

His eager excitement then slowly died on his face as he took in the ravaged area he was now presented with. 

The damage was evident. It was open, scarred and loose. So many men had been here before him, plunging their way through his cries of pain, holding the boy’s hips tight he had once tried to get away. 

It had happened so many times that, now, there was no more squirming. There was only the faintest hint of emotion in the boy’s eyes as he had been selected, and only fear as he had taken in the man’s brutal face. 

Fear, an emotion raw and unforgiving, the type of thing that ran rampant in a life- devouring everything. 

The boy watched the man’s face as it changed- fear still gripping at as his lungs, threatening to send them into spasms the boy could not control. He did not know what to expect- the tension between them was as sharp as the knife the man held only inches above him. 

The moments seemed like minutes- dragging on as the silence filled the room, silent except for the man’s panting, the anticipation electric. 

After what seemed like a miniature lifetime, conviction flashed in the man’s eyes as he pulled away sharply and turned to his tools. With surprising nimbleness for a man so huge, he made short work of wrapping them tightly in their dark cloth organizer- rolling it tightly shut and tucking it in into his impossibly large pack with a thick leather sling. 

He made short work of then searching the pack, dragging out jumbled pieces of clothing which were obviously meant to be a fresh change, but by the smell- they were by no means his fresh ones. 

The boy just looked at him, not saying anything, mindfulness just starting to pool back into his large eyes. He sat up in the bed and watched the man bring out additional articles of clothing before he brought them all into a unorganized ball and dropped them next to where he sat nude. 

The man reached for his shoulder and jerked the boy towards him. Their eyes connecting for a full second, each taking in any information they could get from the other’s eyes. The boy was in the beginning stages of mental shock- his mind unable to process what was happening. He had entered a surreal world- and complied with mechanical compliance. 

The man bound one of the scraps of clothing around the boy’s head starting under the chin, he twisted the cloth, and wrapped it around the boy’s nose and mouth, tying it around his neck, a common style that also hid his cuts. The next item of clothing was a vest not unlike the man’s, made of leather, but with short sleeves. The dark stains that patterned it confirmed the horror of a life this man lead. The pants were also like the man’s, but tattered in many places. 

Everything was bound tightly by a thick cloth wrap around the boy’s waist to keep them from falling, and lastly were thick wrappings for his feet. He did this all with out betraying his motives, with out even hinting at his reasons, the dark cloud hanging over him had not dispersed even a little- but it was re directed. His purpose was clear to him, and that was all that mattered. 

As all this was all unfolding, the boy thought nothing, and felt nothing. The terror that his brain was feeling was simply too great to process- and could not even conceive of what was transpiring. The compound had trained him so well to obey, that in extreme times of crisis, obeying was all he could do. 

The man slung the pack over his on large arm, his muscles bulging. His tools and equipment were tightly wrapped inside and with his other hand he grabbed the boy’s arm and pulled him toward the slatted window. 

He let go of the boy briefly as his hands found purchase in the crudely nailed wooden boards that blocked their passage through the window. His huge shoulders tensed for a long minute underneath the strain before jerking the first board free. 

After the board was placed gently onto the floor, then another followed, and then a third, until the gap was wide enough for both their bodies. All of this was done in complete silence. The man was obviously well practiced, his strong frame honed over years of needing the up most control over his body, the skill no doubt invaluable in his obvious line of dark work. 

He turned and looked at the boy, his large brown eyes filled with pure fear, fear at his situation and the uncertainty of what was transpiring. 

The man only acted quickly- purpose defining his every move as he leaned down and scooped him up, quickly setting him on through the now open window, his agile body making the task of following him as silent and smooth as a breeze, and he landed like a cat. 

The man remained hunched as he reached up and grasped the boy’s upper arm tightly. He pulled him down with him into a squat, close to the dust, feeling the ground with his hand, and smelling the scent of the night- the man felt in control, and stood as solid as a statue as a guard patrolled two huts away. 

All around them, the night was filled with cries- some in fear, some in pleasure, some in pain- all young and male. For the boy’s entire life, he had been one of those voices: crying out. Now he was out here- listening. It struck him strongly and queerly, but before he had time to muse longer, he was being pulled along by the dark man. 

The two of them moved with determination, bypassing guards, waiting for opportune moments, the sounds around them covering the quiet falls of their feet and rustling of the man’s bag. They were like ghosts. 

And so it came to be that the boy and the man approached the exit- shrouded in the shadows around them. On either side of gated exit was a guard, both holding swords in the act of attention, but their minds were obviously dozing. 

The boy’s heart raced- no one had ever left before. None had even tried. They all died here, their ends predictable and consistent. Nothing in that respect ever changed, and the boy was supposed to have joined those ranks of nameless corpses- but here he was.  
Outside.  
Why? 

At his side the man slipped on a pair cast-iron gauntlets, they covered his hand like a glove, reaching to his mid forearm and plated with the thick dark mineral. He abandoned the boy for a moment, signaling with his hand for him to stay. 

The boy could have left then-he could have alerted the guards with a fast shout, but he did not. He stayed. Absolute terror gripped his body as he silently hoped that he was making the right choice. He watched with wide eyes, the gamble before him. 

The man’s movements were like the shadows themselves as he floated like a dark mist over the pounded earth, right up to the guard closest to them. He slowly stood up, and truly it was a terrifying sight to behold. 

He was inky blackness against the dark night and seemed like death itself. He pulled his fist back, the kinetic energy freezing in his arm before he released it in a single controlled blow, swinging at the back of the guard’s head. The power behind the motion was so fierce and so powerful, it was inhuman. The iron connected with the organic bone of the guard’s skull and his face instantly exploded forward. Bone and brain matter were clear against the torchlight and the blood spray reached a foot from its source. 

The body fell in a bloody heap. 

The boy watched all of this unfold a few feet away, and he covered his mouth at the gruesome act. This man was powerful and purposeful, exact in his brutality. He was someone not to cross, and now the boy was in his care. 

Anxiety gripped his throat as he watch the second guard meet an equally gruesome end. The man had already leapt forward into the light, his body language snarling as he pulled his other fist back. The unfortunate soul had barely time to scream as the brutal man swung again. 

This time his ironed fist connected with the man’s jaw as he turned to run away. The bone made a large crack as the jaw flew off into the night-gore streaming behind it. 

The guard dropped to the ground and began to scream- a horrible sound. It was the sound of an animal realizing it is in the throes of death, his pupils wide and dilated, and mortality running head first to claim him. 

The man had zero hesitation as he took one strong stride over and lifted his foot up, the kinetic energy freezing his limb once again before he released it- bringing his heel down. As it fell there was a stomach rolling crack as the screaming guard’s head exploded on impact. 

The torchlight highlighted a crazed look in the man’s eyes, The excitement pumping through is body was raw, the pleasure evident in his twisted smile. 

The boy watched on- catatonic from shock when the dark man came for him. The brute did not hesitate as he swept the boy up in one smooth motion and clutched him tightly to his breast. It was then that he began to run. 

His legs broke into easy strides across the desert. Despite the weight of the pack on his back and form at his chest, his breathing was controlled and strong- ready for a distance. 

They broke through the gates at break neck speed, the man never stumbling, even as he slid down large sand hills, his body responding quickly to his precise commands. 

Being clutched to the madman’s chest, close enough to see every pore in his skin, the boy tried to forget where they had both been, just moments ago. 

There was no longer any room in his heart for doubt- his life was now in this man’s hands. He was his new owner, for better or for worse. 

The boy took a moment to glance at his captor, while trying not to openly dissect his features. He took in the man’s face. This time, really seeing him- really seeing the devastation. 

His nose had indeed been carved off, the fabric slack where his nose should have been, the fabric beating in a strange billowing motion following his breaths. His features were broad, and mutilated, twisting with concentration. 

The boy then looked behind them, the torches of the compound becoming tiny pin pricks on the horizon- the man was fast, and they had caught the compound off guard. 

Cacti and brush passed them by and across his cheeks he felt the cool desert air. The man never stopped to put him down, and with the adrenaline of the escape leaving his veins- the boy began to fear what was indeed waiting for him when their pace slowed and they came to an inevitable stop.

\----------------------------------------

End Part One

\----------------------------------------


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What awaits for him after leaving all that he has known?

\----------------------------------------

Part Two

\----------------------------------------

The man ran almost all night, skirting over desert dunes, and over rocky outcrops. His body maintaining the same gracefulness as a lion. 

It was almost dawn before they came to a small pool, marked only by a smaller tree, barely hitting the man’s waist. 

The boy’s heart lurched as he was sat on his feet but the man did not immediately regard him as he leaned down to sit next to the humble pool, letting his pack down beside him. He unclasped the openings and brought out a large canteen. He sat to catch his breath and took deep drinks from the container, leaning it far back, suggesting that there was not a lot left. 

He paused for a moment and then looked at his new cargo- his eyes still sharp, the rawness that consumed him was, for the moment, tempered by exertion. 

The reality of his predicament had just began to set into the boy’s psyche and although he could feel the man making a motion, he would not look. a sharp whistle cut through the air and the boy jumped- his eyes now glancing up- The man was holding out the bottle for him to take a drink. 

The boy could not bare to approach, was this a ruse to entice him closer? was what he had in mind for him so much worse than what was permitted by the compound? If so, then maybe he should run, run as fast as he can and let the desert just devour him. 

He was a frightened animal as the man stood up and walked the few feet over, bringing their proximity close enough to touch. Even though he was just held by the man, he loathed for them to once again touch. It was the insecurity of what would transpire after their skin once again touched that pushed fear into his heart. 

When the man reached out a hand the boy saw he had not taken off those iron gloves, and those strong fingers connected with his thin chest, pushing him to the ground. his ass landed in the hard sand and surprise landed in his mind when the man tossed the canteen in to his lap, and then turned back to his pack. 

The large container still had weight to it, and the boy only took a second to hesitate before dumping the liquid down his throat. 

The water was wet and tepid and as he drank and he truly thought that nothing had ever tasted better.

The man took the moment to slip out of his gauntlets, and grabbing a cloth from one of the pouches on his waist he wiped off the blood and gore. He took his time, falling back on his haunches next to the pool- making sure he cleaned out all of the nooks and crannies. The same care he bestowed on his weapon, he did not deem necessary on himself- as his arms were still splattered with other mens’ life force. 

The boy continued to take small sips, setting the container in his lap when he was finished, still enough left for just one satisfying gulp. 

The boy looked at the ground and listened to the rhythmic cleaning of the man, felt the sand under his legs and the openness all around him- it was all so jarring to his senses that despite his exhaustion, he could not find himself willing to sleep. 

It was for the better though, because as the man completed his task he stood and clasped the gauntlets back to his sides. He then drew out two linen robes, neither much cleaner than the rags they were wrapped in now and threw one onto the boy. He placed the other over his head. The linen comprised of a hood and a long sleeved robe, covering his hands and chest- down to mid thighs. 

The man glanced at him and the boy took the queue to place the one now sitting in his lap over his head. It fit him like a gown. 

Sitting in front of the small pool, the man used his hand to slowly funnel water into the canteen, until it was as full as he could manage it- which was about half way. He then slung the pack over his back and they began walking, It was obviously still too soon to slow down. 

Over the days that followed, the more the boy mused over his situation, the more he deemed it unlikely that he would be killed. After all, the man had paid good money to use him at the compound, in whatever twisted way he wished. To the boy’s knowledge, there never had been rules for cuts. That was, after all, how they were sold. 

His mind continually wandered back to their encounter in the hut itself. The man had touched the boy with immense desire to do just what he had paid for. 

The boy knew what want felt like. What lust felt like. The man had exhibited all of these things, along with the twisted aura that the boy had never felt before, but he knew what it meant, all animals did. 

The same look had flashed in the man’s eyes as he punched the guard in the face with his cast iron knuckles- the elation and pleasure was evident in his grin. This was someone who was violent and loved it. Someone who took pleasure in pain- someone- 

The boy’s thoughts were cut off as the man grunted. It was a primitive sound; growling and deep. 

It matched his hulking body perfectly. 

They had been walking the entire day through the hot desert- the sand warm under the boy’s bound feet. The robe he wore protected his skin from the harsh sun, and the keffiyeh bound around his face helped shield his eyes from the incredibly bright atmosphere. 

As the sun was settling below its climax, the man indicated that this was where they would stop. 

His pack fell to the ground with a clatter, and he sat next to it- bringing out the majority of its contents. 

His actions were executed with a practiced hand, and when the boy saw the tent being pulled out- he wondered if that would be his new place to perform. 

This brought him back to what he thought was the real reason for his capture. His sexual servitude. 

What other option could there be? what other reason would he be kept alive- and given clothing to protect his skin from the sun? 

The boy feared what his performance would be like- how badly would the knife cut his skin? Would the man choke him while using his new tool, as other men once had? 

Or was he taking him somewhere more horrible then from whence they came? The thought made him shiver in the heat- but the man took no notice. 

He had begun setting the small tent that had been produced from the pack- It was a stained red- a color that closely mimicked the desert, and had a peaked roof. Tensioned ropes, twisted deep into the sand by means of large cast iron screws, pulled the walls of the tent straight. 

More things had been produced from his pack, including a thin, tightly wound mat made of straw and a soft cloth folded in quarters. The man placed these things inside the meager arrangement, clearly this was a set up not meant for two. 

He placed the pack and the rest of his items in the tent, keeping out the half-filled canteen and a small notebook. 

The notebook was as thick as a large hand, and equally as wide. it was bound by thick tine, the paper inside it was almost used up and charcoal covered most of the pages. The man clutched it tightly as he motioned for the boy to follow him inside. 

The humidity was low, and the heat was warm. The fabric shielded them from the sun, but was thin enough to let the slight breeze flow in. Inside they were packed tightly- the pack taking nearly a quarter of the space. The man occupied most of the rest, leaving only a fraction of an area for the boy to climb into. 

The confines were tight, and the boy’s memories surged forward. How many sex acts could be performed in this tiny space? How much could his frame contort- and still leave room for the act? 

He sat in his small space, arms circled tightly against his legs, head on his knees. He waited for the order to strip, waited with growing anxiety that the man would come for him, pushing him down to the mat with sheer force, taking what he wanted. 

But that action never came. 

Instead the man sat writing. He had opened his little note book and was scrawling in it with a wooden charcoal holder. the movements of his hands were precise- just like they all were, and he seemed absorbed in his act. 

His eyes were focused and his dry lips were pursed, his brain was clearly working. 

Despite this, the boy could not let his guard down, he stayed alert, until the sun began to set, and the night became cool. The man had lit a small oil lamp and set it in the ground. and he continued to write with intent, his eyes never once leaving the paper. The writing grew steadily as he turned pages, the thoughts that flew out of his hand only known to him. 

The boy’s mind began to doze and he found himself drifting into unwanted sleep. try as he might to stay awake, his body rebelled, and he was soon dozing on his side. His eyes began to flicker behind his eyelids in deep sleep, and only when his breathing was slow, did the man glance at him. 

He paused only for a moment before returning to his writing. 

 

The next morning the boy was jolted awake by a foot at his shoulder- and his body immediately sat up. 

He had been dreaming. 

Now he was back in this strange reality, feeling the tent’s fabric rustling at his side. The light cloth of the small tent was faintly glowing from the rays of the rising sun, the star laying a delicate gaze over the desolate world below it. 

The man was hunched over him. 

His entire height would have toppled their small structure, but instead he leaned in gently at the waist. His stench was just as foul as the boy remembered, but he did not gag. Instead he stayed sitting below him, gazing at his own feet. 

He waited for a touch- since he had not been used the night before, surely that was what lay in store for him, he surmised. 

A man such as the one the boy now found himself with had a purpose for every tool, and carried only what he needed. Since his nomadic nature limited his ownership, everything he brought along was committed to a very precise purpose. Because of this, the boy knew that he too, would serve. He too would be kept sharp and ready. 

The man remained leaning, and the boy’s certainty of what was about to transpire only grew before the man’s hand swiftly grabbed by the back of his robe, lifted him up and then threw him outside of the tent. 

The boy stumbled into the early morning and then fell. His legs felt like rubber after sleeping in such a confined spot, and sand had somehow found it’s way in-between his cloth wrappings. 

Was he to be used out here instead? he briefly thought, before the man had followed him out. 

The boy quickly adverted his eyes as he felt activity behind him- and a quick, secret glance revealed that the man was only disassembling the tent, wrapping the fabric tightly between his large hands so he could fit their entire camp back into his bag. 

He swiftly wound the cords around his bandaged arm, shifting his elbow with purpose- careful not to cause knots. Following this, he rolled the straw mat and the soft cloth together to be placed in the bag, and then tucked in the screws that had held the taught strings of the fabric walls around them. When he was completed, everything had once again disappeared into his pack. 

The boy watched this process with tentative curiosity. He was amazed by the efficiency of the technique, but did not forget the nature of the man who applied it. 

The man walked over with a long easy stride, his eyes glued on the boy, slinging the pack with an easy motion over one large shoulder. He was already wearing the lightweight, stained travel robe he had worn yesterday, and the breeze gently blew it open, revealing his toned, dirty mid drift, only partly covered by his brown vest. 

The boy remained looking down, feeling both afraid and intimidated, knowing he was unworthy to look at his new owner’s face, and instead he studied his fingernails, the grime had downed it’s way into the smallest cracks and crevices of his skin, making his light chestnut skin darker. 

The man let the tension between them slowly build, the awkwardness of the drawn out moment becoming a tangible thing between them- hanging with unspoken obviousness as time moved on around them. 

In a quick flash, the moment was broken and the man grabbed the boy’s chin with a force that was tight and painful. Those powerful finger tips finding their way into the tender spots of the boy’s jaw, and he wanted to cry out, but he held his tongue. He was being forced to look the dark man in the face, his stormy grey eyes swirling with discontent. 

This was the man the boy feared, the man with the sickness beneath the surface- the infection always fighting to get out, always demanding to be heard. 

The man forced his chin still, making him look at his horrible visage. Every time the boy tried to avert his eyes, a sharp jerk brought his attention back, back to the man before him. 

The way the cloth moved over the chasm of the man’s nasal passage set the pace for the grotesque viewing party, and the boy imagined that this might be it- this was where his use was to be defined. 

But the man slowly released his chin from the tight grasp and turned away from him, not in a sign of retreat, but in a sign of dominance. 

The boy now realized what his purpose truly was. He was to be groomed. Being forced to look upon the man’s face had sent a clear message through his mind: he belonged to the man, and he would do as he was told. 

Or else. 

The man set off with purpose, walking with a steady gait. He never once stopped to see if the boy followed, his confidence was so great in his new ownership of the other human. 

The boy had no choice. Born a slave, dying a slave- there was no way out of it for him. This was the way of the world that they lived in, so it was easy to accept that someone owned him. 

Although, why a man such as this, one who clearly had a twisted desire percolating under the surface, did not take what was rightfully his, was becoming an agonizing mystery. One that clearly would not be so easily solved, and one that consumed his new tool so completely that he seldom thought of anything else. 

*** Over the next fews days the man increased the distance between the two of them- and the boy was glad for it. The man had a constant churning beneath his skin, like a sandstorm out of control, and the boy stayed as far away from him as he could. 

The possibility of the man loosing his cool became more and more likely as the days grew, and the boy feared that when the break finally came- he would not survive it. 

It was in the way he walked- shoulders hunched, eyes slits against his face and it was in the way he moved his shoulders, heaving the heavy pack along. It was in the way his feet hit the ground, hard and strong, his energy was almost visible it was so electric- and without release, the tension was only building. 

The boy thought of touching him the way he was trained to. The way he knew would lead to a release for him- but he did not do it. The idea of touching the man, equally repulsed and terrified him. He imagined what dark things would play out after he opened that pandora’s box- and all of the scenarios were grotesque and painful. It was three days later that the man would finally crack. 

It was dusk- and their camp had just been set. The mindless activity was spotted with tension, as the man’s energy had only gotten worse. His movements had grown so erratic that he had, in unmanaged anger and frustration, thrown their only metal cup soaring over the dunes. 

The boy watched with large brown eyes and the man used his entire form to propel the innocent cup into the atmosphere, the metal winking slightly in the great expanse of desert sky. 

The man watched the cup soar too, and after realizing what he had done, he roared in exasperated frustration. He turned then, and faced the only other being around him. His face looked more horrible in that moment that it had minutes before, his mouth set in a grimace, showing his dark yellow teeth, and his breath moving that hideous cloth with rapid billows. 

The boy’s heart had only a moment to spasm with fear as the man stomped towards him, and reached out to grab his arm with ferocious strength. The boy had no time to process the impending doom as he was thrown in the direction the cup had went, and was filled with relief as the man gestured in one primal movement, the vague direction it had landed. 

The boy was more than happy to go off after it, scrambling on his arms and legs until his feet secured purchase, and he ran off. Getting a release from the constant apprehension was a blessing in itself, for the man’s hulking black mass drained everything around it, it seemed. Even the light of day. 

 

After what seemed like half the night, the boy returned with cup in tow, the metal held the imprint of the man’s fingers, the dents echoing the residue of a rage that the boy did not want to understand. 

He bent and entered their cramped sleeping quarters, placing the cup next to the thick cloth bag. He then tried to situate himself into the tangle of limited space that they both shared. The boy had to settle in the only open space, one right next to the man himself. A blanket was draped over the hulking form, one that smelled of sweat. The night had become cold, and the boy had no choice but to also curl up beneath the miserable blanket- wondering if this was it. 

The night soon became as uncomfortable as usual, and the boy had just fallen into a tentative sleep after attempting to do so for over an hour. Despite his exhaustion, the position was always awkward, and sleeping right next to the dark man was a lot like sleeping next to a rattlesnake, he was constantly afraid that the slightest twitch would disturb the beast. 

His mind filtered in and out of a sleepy haze as they both lay in the tent, the pack in the far corner, the dented cup slightly glinting and the man curled up on the straw mat, his back facing his charge. Their bodies were now used their close proximity, but the boy’s mind was anything but calm as his mind kept dragging him into the waking world with the man’s smallest movements. 

It was after another failed attempt at sleep that he felt the man move next to him. It was not a small movement at all, but rather an entire shift of his body. The boy could feel the man turn towards him, and his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

His mind was frozen in submissive animal terror, as the man leaned over him. He reached out a strong, dirty hand- and he made the boy face him yet again. Forcing the boy’s smaller frame to roll onto his back. 

Their eyes were locked, the boy was now wide-awake, and time seemed to stand still. The light from the moon illuminating just enough for their eyes to gaze into each other’s faces- and slowly gravity pulled the man’s long dark hair from beneath his keffiya. The black mass was heavy with grease as it fell into a pool between them, the edge of his ponytail lightly grazing the boy’s narrow chest. 

The man’s eyes were fierce and it was clear that he had steeled himself for his actions. Determination carved with hours of preparation displayed on his furrowed brow. It was what all the hours of tension had lead up to- and the boy held his breath as the man trailed his hand down his smooth neck, lightly moving his thick, callused thumb across his flesh. The boy felt his breathing hitch and the man felt it too- his small pupils narrowed in response. 

The boy was terrified that the man could read the repulsion in his face- the hair that hung to the his clothes was heavy and slick with oil, and the man’s breath smelt like decay. 

The man felt his hand hesitate at the boy’s sudden gasp, but as the brutal man’s mouth set itself firmly, he lowered himself to a mere inches above the small figure below him, their faces mere millimeters away. The man’s breath hung there, with thick anticipation, before there was a voice that pierced the night air- “Hello!” it called, clear and precise. 

The man’s eyes narrowed and his mouth grimaced. With lithe dexterity he lifted himself up and left the tent, leaving the boy laying breathless on his back- embracing his good fortune. 

Outside, the desert was painted in cool dark colors and the moon was a giant orb overhead. The clear light illuminated a man about 50 feet away, the dark colors of his robe disappearing into the shadows. There was a large camel at his side, burdened with packs and wicker crates. By all appearances, the stranger was a trader. 

The brutal man stood like a statue about 10 feet in front of the tent, his arms at his sides, hands already clad in those thick, cast iron gauntlets. When had he slipped them on? The boy could not remember, all he could recall at the moment was the feeling of the man’s skin on his- and the smell he could still taste. A shiver went down his spine. He now watched through the flap of the tent, trying to control his breathing as he saw the stranger approach. The new comer’s face was almost completely obscured by shadow, and his new master was tense with agitation. 

The stranger offered a bow to the man, bending neatly at the waist. His grace was well practiced- but how much was an act- and how much was truth- was something up for debate. His clear voice sang through the darkness once again as he arose from his bow. He announced himself; “I am called Marco and I am a traveling merchant.” the man spoke like he was smiling. “I have been walking my entire life, traveling place to place, bartering as I go-” his eyes glanced at their meager tent- and the boy hunched a little lower, trying to hide in the fabric. “I have water and supplies- perhaps you have something to trade?” The way the man spoke- it was as if he knew there was something tucked inside the tent. Had he been following them? Or was this just a clever way of speaking that the salesman had, acting like he knew more than he should? 

There was a long pause after the stranger called Marco spoke, and the boy could feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck- cool in the night air on his hot skin. 

With smooth movements, the brutal man reached to his side, and pulled out of his deep pockets the small notebook that the boy had seen him write in before. Flipping the pages, he began to write with small, controlled motions. 

Marco laughed slightly at this- clearly he had never met someone who communicated in such a strange manner. His head tilted slightly to take in the curious scene, letting the meager light hit his smile, illuminating a single gold tooth with precise clarity. 

When he was finished, the man showed Marco what he had written, and the stranger guffawed after a quick appraisal of the small piece of paper. 

“You sure have some large balls, my friend.” he almost laughed the sentence, “Not many would have such confidence in themselves to say this to a complete stranger. You underestimate me.” 

The brutal man just remained a black hulking mass, and shook his head slowly. 

The boy watched with anticipation as the entire manner of the man called Marco changed. He reached up one arm and tugged off his robe, letting it fall into the sand in a soft cloud. Underneath, he was clad strangely. 

His dark clothing was blacker than the night- covering his arms and legs in billowing fabric- meant to give his body access to its full range of motion. This was not the outfit of a trader. He barked another cruel laugh, that gold tooth shining, as he drew a scimitar from his side, a polished, clean blade, so unlike the crude iron gauntlets that clad the man’s dark hands. 

“Master sends his regards, fool.” Marco spat, before taking his stance, one leg before the other. 

In comparison, the boy’s own master shifted one foot back and turned to his side, minimizing the target his body made, raising his fists to his face. 

The boy watched the events with terror, the black uniform, the sword- he had seen these things so many times before in so many different ways. He was from the compound. The realization hit him like a punch in the gut and made his blood run cold. 

There were so many boys- why would they bother following after him? Why would they send a Scorpion for such a minor task? 

The Scorpions were the darkest of men that served at the compound, their faces and black uniforms made them a part of the shadows themselves, which seemed to seep into their soul. They worked in the main building, and the boy had seen them come and go, dispatched to handle matters that needed certain delicate touch when attending too. Important matters that a guard did not have the tactfulness to address. 

He had serviced quite a few too, over the years. Their own hands, unyielding in their demands and exact in their measures, had always tightly controlled their fantasies. It was so surreal, here and now, seeing one of these warriors prepared for combat, poised for the attack, his confidence in his own ability blinding him to his own opponent. 

Marco then stepped forward with a swordsman’s speed, bringing his blade down low, his form poised to slice upward- but the brutal man was too fast. His speed was not in dexterity, but in a fighting style that was all his own. It was unpredictable and erratic- a technique only seen by the men he fought- and inevitably killed. 

In the span of a heartbeat, he had swung his arm down and caught the blade in his metal clad grip, the screeching sound of iron on steel assaulted the boy’s ears as the battle was ended in the next moment. A shout of shock broke from the Scorpoin’s jaw as disbelief registered in his face, disbelief that the man has stopped his skilled attack with a mere swing of his arm. The brutal man smirked at the predictable nature of the attack- all Scorpions were trained the same way- all their movements executed with template accuracy, and he knew them all. 

The man inhaled with a deep breath and began to pull his energy up from his feet, his body harnessing all of its kinetic energy in to one point- his own head. A grunt of ki exited his lips as he brought his head down with the force of a small boulder and the Scorpion’s head crunched- like so many dead twigs on a fire, as blood shot through his nose.

The man looked down, his face stony as he watched Marco’s body crumple at his feet, blood sputtering from his mouth as his flesh let out the last convulsions of life. It was the little things in life that just make sense; he thought to himself- taking in the corpse with analytical eyes, the warm lump of meat already steaming in the night air. 

His chest rose and fell- the cloth across his nose billowed with his breath- rapid as he felt the blood pumping quicker through his veins. It was the rush that sent that red liquid reaching to every point in his body- making them vibrate with intensity. He turned to the tent, knowing that the boy was inside, and his mind went to what they had been doing just moments ago. Remembering the feeling on skin on skin, he swallowed spit and began make his way towards the sleeping quarters.

In his mind was the determination he had been steeling himself for, the urge he had been lacking that night. The night that he had saddled himself with this charge in the first place, and hated himself for it. He had not been able to bury that last, pathetic part of himself. The part that made him hesitate. The man knew that if he faltered in his mission, in any aspect- he would fail. The road ahead of him would be paved with trials that demand perfection. Perfection did not mean faltering in anyway. Because of that, the boy was necessary. He had to bury that feeling that would not stop pumping into his chest when he looked into those boy’s large brown eyes. He had to face down and conquer the only thing that could hold him back. He gritted his teeth and approached the tent. But when he pulled away the fabric of their pathetic arrangement, he saw himself in pristine clarity 

The boy was wide eyed, just like he had predicted- but the expression that was plastered on his features gripped at the same part of him as they did the last time, freezing him in time. It was the same intense fear he was trying to bury- the same that had changed his life for the second time, 8 years ago.

His body echoed the vibrant memory of the fear and it pooled into his chest, but blood had been shed just moments ago. From his face to his chest was covered with it, warm and steaming, now it was already cooling- feeling more alive than all the red blood the man felt in his own body. 

The truth then, was clear in his heart and he turned away from the boy, and let the tent flap fall away from him. He strode towards the dead man’s body and approached the camel- the animal’s indifference to its master’s death would have normally brought an ironic smile to his face, but now all his instincts were pointed to doing the thing that he did best. 

And that was running. 

He had been running since he walked out the door that morning, when he had started swinging his fists and stealing. When he had strted killing. He grasped at the thick cords that held the packages to the animal’s back and pulled loose the various pieces of cargo, letting them fall into the sand at his side. The only thing filling his turbulent skull was knowing, without a doubt, that he was weak. He was more than weak, he was a pathetic coward and he hated himself for it. 

How long had he fought, how long had he trained? Buried in the desolate trenches of a chaotic society- he was only one where there should be many. He was the only one who cried out with his voice for vengeance, and for explanation. He refused to acquiesce the meaning of his existence to the very entity that had disfigured him, but here he was, failing once again, at the critical moment. For the second time, he had failed to bury that last nagging part of himself. It was that weak inside that would betray him and in order to continue his life long struggle of revenge, he had to be like the gauntlets on his fists tested and tempered. 

Grasping at the cords, he ripped them off the animal- and it let out a screech of pain- rearing its legs and taking off- the last of the parcels falling in the animal’s wake as its hoofs hit even sand. He fell into a mass amidst the boxes, not 5 feet from the man still dying, and screamed. 

His voice was strong and primal- filled with rage at his resignation. 

Inside the tent, the boy held his legs. What had just happened? The scene played back and forth behind his eyes. The man’s face had changed as soon as the tent flap was lifted. Their faces had connected- and after that, he strode out. If the boy had to say, the expression on his face was one of horror. The boy leaned forward and scrambled on his hands and knees to the tent flap and watched as the man tore the cords off of the animal, falling to his knees and screaming. Although he had won the physical fight, the wail was his loss at one mental.

The man was his master- therefore the boy was his to do with as he willed. But the large man acted as if this was not so, that he had no right to him. The boy could not help but wonder if he would have gone through with it, before the Scorpion came. If the man would have been just the next rape in a never ending line of them, always ending with him spread eagle on his back in the middle of a desert. Watching the hulking form now, crumpled in defeat, he felt his body go numb, and before he knew what he was doing, he picked himself up, and walked slowly to the form. As the boy approached, he could see that the man was simply breathing- staring off into the vast distance inside of him. The boy fell down to his knees next to him, and was not afraid. He now knew his master would not hurt him. 

He looked up at the man next to him, his eyes were cast down and the space where his nose should have been felt even more naked in its absence. The boy then felt something more than obligation in his chest. It was mutual understanding. They had shared that feeling when their eyes connected- it was a jolt between them- strong and all consuming. 

Now, they sat there in perfect, serene silence, surrounded by supplies and horror. 

The boy enjoyed the sound, and for the first time in a long time, felt at peace. As time grew longer, he loathed to interrupt their now found coexistence, but he had a question that was burning on the edge of his lips. “Master”, he began, his voice soft and cautious. “Please, may I only know your name?” 

The man was silent, his mouth set in a grim line. The boy could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, weighing his next actions. After another moment, his hands began to move, and he brought out his notepad and charcoal writer once again. 

His hands left bloody spots on the off white paper- and he scrawled a message in exact square writing. He then tore off the paper and handed it to him. 

The writing was longer than a name, it was three lines of symbols with spaces in between. It was a message. “Master,” the boy then said after a pause. “I cannot read.” 

The man let out a strange noise, but by the turn of his cheeks the boy could tell it was a laugh. His mouth was in a twisted smile and he just nodded knowingly. He brought his iron clad thumb up, and lifted down his dark patterned keifya from his jaw. Amongst all of the other scars crisscrossing the left side of his face in grotesque patterns, there were three that stood out in their width, exactness and placement. 

They were the three vertical cuts, marking the man himself as a cut. 

The boy felt his breath hitch, and he realized with a shock that they were the same. That they had both been used, for as long as they could remember. They had both felt the intense shame that only sexual servitude could provide. They had both had looked down death’s door, when they were both cut, but only one of them had come out unscathed. The boy’s spine chilled as that thought materialized in his head. He then knew, without even asking, that this was the reason the man was so disfigured, and his heart silently broke. 

The man merely snorted at the boy’s surprise and turned his head, breaking the moment they just shared with a much practiced cold shoulder. He placed his notebook and charcoal writer back in his pockets and stood up. Bending over he began going through the various boxes and baskets. Ripping off their lids and dumping out the contents to go over them with a quick eye. 

The boy folded the piece of paper mindfully, pushing this moment inside the fibers that made it up and tucked it deep into his borrowed clothing. He placed it into the deepest part of all his layers, his cloth wrapped underwear, keeping it safe. 

He then stood up and they sorted through the boxes together. When all was laid out before them, they realized that at least some good fortune was made. Amongst the pillaged items there was a slightly larger tent with poles, various packs filled with clothing, 5 canteens of water and a medium sized bag of gold. The man picked through the supplies with calculated speed, comparing the stock before him against his own mental inventory, 

In the end he settled on taking an extra cup and two plates, a small pan and light cooking rack that collapsed. He took all of the water and took the tent. The newly acquired dinner wear took up room, and so did the extra fabric and poles. The man solved this by giving the boy his own pack- putting in it a few articles of clothing, the before mentioned dinnerware, and also three canteens of water, each weighing 8 pounds. When all was said and done, the boy realized it was now time to serve his purpose. 

And serve he would, with dedication and precision. The man was still not a force to be reckoned with, but the boy knew that deep down, they were the same. That even though the man’s want for him was real, he would not take it, because it had been taken from both of them.

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End Part Two

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	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forced by his circumstances, the man is forced to confront old wounds, and the boy is thrown into the middle.

 

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Part Three

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They rubbed themselves with clean with the clothes they did not decide to pilfer and left them at the side of the dead Marco- knowing that nature would take care of him. The sun and animals would strip him to his bones, and bleach them white in the sun, leaving a gruesome scene for the person that may or may not find it.

They also left their small tent, but the boy did not have to worry about how their new sleeping arrangement would play out this coming night- because they were coming up on a baked town, bustling with activity.  

Indeed, the boy had heard stories about towns from the men who had paid for him, but he had never seen one for himself. The buildings were square and squat, with a dark ruddy color, the same as the earth around them and were built on a rocky outcrop.

Some buildings also seemed to double as businesses. There were about 50 buildings clustered around two different centers, both built around large round wells. Some homes had tarps hanging from their window or doors, and a few men were calling out their wares.  

The boy and the man ignored all of them. The hulking form and his newly acquired shadow parted the masses before them, some people turning to take a glance, and some whose eyes went wide with recognition. His master certainly had been here before. Whether he had done good or evil, the boy could not say.

The man walked purposefully through the streets. He knew where he was going, and after passing vendors, stalls and hovel homes, he came to one particular building and stopped. The home looked like all of the others- unhappy stone walls- a thatched roof and large door which hung open on it’s broken hinges, only a cloth hanging for privacy. There was just one thing that separated this home from all of the others- a pale blue cloth hanging from an old piece of iron- floating gently in the breeze. On the cloth was sewn the simple pattern of a white square on an angle. The shade of blue, was what made the banner stand out- the boy had never seen such a color occupying fabric fibers, and his eyes were engrossed in it’s depth.  

In his preoccupation, the man reached out a firm hand and positioned the boy to the right of the door- his hands only touching him for the briefest of moments- like the boy had some sort of disease. His bandaged and dirty hands quickly retreated to his sides and the boy watched as the man positioned himself before the open door. To his amazement, his master then took a deep breath.

 Two things then became evident: This was not the man’s home, and he was clearly feeling apprehensive- a wildly different emotion then the perpetual cloud of rage and lust that usually hung around his shoulders. When had this anxiety built up? It must have happened as they were walking through town, when the boy’s attention was not fully on his master. 

This new hesitation in the large man was unsettling to the boy. Where had it come from? Who would have that type of power over a man so fierce? 

All these things flowed through the boy’s mind as he watched the man bring up his fist. He hesitated for a brief moment- before knocking on the broken wooden door to his left. Almost immediately, a pleasant voice came from the hovel- "one moment!" it chimed- confidant and easy.  

A few minutes later, a pale hand snaked out from the curtain and pushed it aside- revealing a man that was lithe, with long dark hair tied and pulled to the side, draped over his narrow shoulder. He was not young- but not old, maybe just a decade older than the brutal man who continued to stand tensely.

The slender man’s emotions proceeded to fire in rapid succession upon witnessing just who was at his door. First was shock, which quickly transformed into anger. The anger then faded a bitterness that had been nurtured for years. 

As they stood in-front of the stoop awkwardly, the brutal man realized that this was a mistake. He should never have come here. He should not have come to see Loruge- but what other choice did he have? He had wracked his head repeatedly on the journey here, exasperated that he had no other choice. 

There was simply no one else. He could not speak. It was that cold, harsh reality that never ceased to complicate things. 

The boy needed to learn to read- there was no way around that. It was for that reason and the assurance that the pale man would keep his mouth shut, that they now found themselves here. Looking at him, his dark heart began to quicken and his mind went back to that night- the night he stared at the ceiling. 

Swallowing the memory he continued to look into the doctor’s eyes, quickly erecting mental barriers so that the man could not see inside. He had to force his hands to move, and they did- with much practiced calmness that he himself did not even feel. Reaching into his pocket, he removed his small notebook, turned the page he had written in and offered the book to the man standing in the entry way. 

Loruge did not reach out to take it- instead his voice cracked, and he spoke in a harsh, scathing voice just above a whisper, "Why the fuck did you come back, after all these years?" Where had that chiming voice from before gone? Now his voice was like a bubbling pot- emotions peeking out, threatening to overflow. Loruge’s eyes, now slightly wet, then looked at the boy- then back at the brutal man as he spat with accusation. "So this is what you were doing? Carrying on the tradition, eh?" and he let out a mocking laugh. 

The man just stood there in silence- anger seething in his chest. Loruge thought he was the only one with cause to be bitter- but the man knew that no one had more cause than he. Not out of choice, his mouth stayed silent. Occasionally this helped matters- but really all he wanted to do was scream, cursing the fact that he needed this man. 

 

 

Loruge stood before them, a disgusted scowl upon his face. He struggled physically with the thoughts pounding behind his head until he showed that he still had a little of the idealistic fool he used to be left. He stepped to the side, and gestured them in, taking the man’s notepad from him as he entered. The boy simply followed his master and did not question.  

Inside was a modest home, furnished with a low table that had large, straw filled cushions arranged around it for seating. The pale man was clad in traditional light blue colored robes- the same color as the cloth hanging outside. This was a sign of healing in these small towns, and a doctors role was always a revered one. After taking a quick look around the stone abode, it was evident that he also used this room to treat patients. There were spare straw futons on the right hand sides of the hovel, tucked under medium sized square windows, just large enough to let the light breeze coast through. 

There were two rooms, one main one where they now stood and a second one, obscured by  fabric. The floor seemed to be the same throughout- it was the stone of the earth, polished until smooth with the occasional sandy spot. The walls were made up almost entirely of just shelves- filled with vials and bottles containing thick and thin serums of all colors. Each vial was also labeled neatly with letters- describing what was inside. 

In the close confines, the brutal man smelled like a rotting corpse- and the pale man covered his mouth in disgust after following them inside. "Don’t assume that you are welcome here." he said, standing absently with the man’s notebook. "I will read what you have to say- and then we will talk. But things..." he paused here, and his voice was filled with bitter regret, "-are not like they were." The man knew this, but did not morn it. He had left for a reason and had never looked back. "now go bathe in the back- You smell horrible."   

The boy went to follow his master but was quickly stopped. "I don’t think that is a good idea," the blue robed man said cautiously. The boy could see that the pale man did not know how to place him, or what to think. He could feel the man’s eyes analyzing him from top to bottom, and the pale man’s nose curled again. "You stink also- but it will have to wait." He directed the boy with a wave of his hand toward the cushions that circled the table. 

 

 

If there was anything that the boy felt comfortable doing, it was following orders. He situated himself on the straw cushion, as the blue robed man brought him a large cup of boiled well water and thick pita bread. Placing them on the table, he then sat down on the cushion opposite his guest. 

The boy forced down a dry swallow- he had forgotten how thirsty he was. Looking at the refreshment before him, he clenched his hands tightly- unsure of who the food was for. Surely it was not for him? He glanced up, looking at the dark haired man and their eyes met. His face was stony, but observant. Trying to dissect the boy like he was something to be analyzed under a careful eye.  

The pale man gestured toward the food with a loose hand, his expression was mildly strained while placing the notebook on the table. "Eat", he said flatly. "and drink. I set them out for you" before he focused all of his attention back on the writing in front of him. 

The boy was mildly surprised- but pleased. He reached out a careful hand and brought a thick piece of bread close to his chest and tore it apart. He then dunked the chunk into the wide cup of water. Bringing the soggy item to his lips, the wheat dissolved into cool mush. He sucked on it slowly and swallowed- watching the man before him and wondered what to make of him. 

As he was reading, the doctors brow furrowed and his expression was serious. The subconscious frown he made did not suit his delicate features. His face was one with a thin nose and no beard to speak of. Scattered through his long dark hair were silver strands, delicate in their beauty. His fingers were long and sinewy as they curled around the dirty page, and his robes cinched at his narrow waist. His feet were wrapped in the same way the boy’s were, tucked underneath the wooden table- criss crossed in front of him. 

 

 

Whoever he was, the boy gathered, that he and his master knew each other, and that it had not ended well. But how serious the disagreement and how long their relationship had lasted was a complete mystery. Indeed, it was hard for him to imagine that the brutal man would have had a relationship of any sort with out some sort obligation, so maybe that was where things had gone sour.

After a few minutes- the man looked up- the anger had diluted some from his face, but his eyes were now a million miles away while he sighed deeply and looked trough one of the small square windows. The sky was a dazzling blue, and the clouds slowly churned by, entering and leaving his field of view. The older man seemed comforted by it. After his moment of reflection, he then turned to the boy and spoke; 

"What name did they give you?" he asked quietly, rubbing his forehead with the tips of his fingers. The letter seemed to have described the circumstances that had brought them there, but how much his master had described was unknown.

The boy swallowed, he would have to say as little as possible. He did not want to jeopardize whatever mission they had there. "Worm," he answered simply. His voice still sounded like a small boys- even though the change had recently begun to creep upon him. 

"...and why did they give you that name?" the man asked, and through this next question, the boy ascertained that the letter had said where he had come from. The boy now knew that the robed man before him was familiar with compound naming rites. He answered carefully, once again meticulous   in not giving any information away.

"they gave me that name, because of the way I squirmed as a child. When men first started taking me." The worker’s shame carried on into all facets of their lives, not just when they were being used. Their names were just one more constant reminder that they would never be more than a worker. Worm had accepted that at a young age- and it had ceased to bother him anymore. 

By contrast, the man grimaced. The explanation left a band taste in his mouth, but it was not one he hadn’t tasted a thousand times before. "will you take off your scarf for me?" was his next question, his eyes looking with an intelligent gaze, and the boy knew that this was not a request to be challenged. 

It was strange, the pale man’s mannerisms were familiar, but the boy knew they had never met before. It was a learned familiarity, one that made the boy’s stomach slightly churn. The boy reluctantly unwrapped his head, and let the fresh scabs from those perfect vertical cuts free to be seen- exact in their horrific beauty. 

Upon seeing the mark, the man sighed again, and rubbed his temples. absently he then touched his lips, looking now into the face of the boy. Seeing that the man wanted to be frank- he dipped another piece of torn bread in the water, and proceeded to suck on it with emotionless concentration. How much was to be revealed? 

The pale man raised his eye brows at the bread dunk, but said nothing about it. Instead he chose to finally introduce himself. "My name is Loruge, and I am obviously the doctor of this village. It is my job to take care of the people here.” He looked at the boy before gesturing around the room to all the vials and shelves. 

"According to this letter, you were brought here to learn how to read." His voice showed how he felt about that, but for no reason regarding the boy. It was obvious that his mind had not stopped thinking about the brutal man since he had pulled back that curtain to see him on his doorstep. "I will, on the condition that you can give me a compelling reason for which to tell you." 

Worm felt shock temporarily course through his system. Workers did not learn how to read, it was just not something that was acceptable. It was the man’s doing. He either could not, or would not speak and they had to have some form of communication. Did this mean he had things to tell him? The idea made him keenly aware of his own heart beat.

He was then keenly aware of the doctor staring him down, waiting for an answer that was not easy to procure. He sat in silent speculation before replying, not knowing what was the right thing to say.

"So I can better serve my master,” was what he ended up saying.

"Your master?!?!" Loruge barked a laugh while Worm flinched at his sudden reaction. "Him!?" he continued to chuckle for a time before sighing and looking at Worm with a knowing smile. "Do you know the types of things that he has done? The things that he will make you a party to? There are no ’masters’ outside of compound walls, my young friend."

Worm thought of Marco, and his last spasms of death. That was the true way of the world and the man was a truly terrifying part of it- a monster in his own regard- but the duality of his personality also came to the boy’s mind. It was true, he knew so little about his master, where there was obviously so much to know, but he had seen something in him that he wondered if Loruge had ever seen. That guarded vulnerability.

Worm still did not know for what purpose he was taken, but he did not know if it even mattered anymore. The moment he had seen the cuts on his master’s face, he had known him, and his newfound loyalty was unquestioning.

"That man you call master- he is often someone who is submerged in dark places..." He paused and looked at Worm who sat silently in front of him. "..are you prepared for that?"

The question was a direct one. One that needed an honest explanation. Worm imagined himself killing, warm blood flowing over his hands into the desert sand- all for a cause that he did not understand. He then thought of his master, and the far away look he had seen in his eyes, after screaming and collapsing in some unknown mental defeat. He thought of the brutal man, and his horrible scars- of the night that he had taken him away. He thought of being so close he could smell the decay of the man’s teeth, and with a churning of his stomach, he answered, "yes."

 

Loruge now had a blank face and sighed. "What..." he was now getting to the question at hand, the one he really wanted to ask, the one he was afraid to know the answer to. "...is your physical relationship with him...?" The older man’s eyes searched him, wanting to, needing to hear a honest explanation.

Worm reflected on both times that their skin had touched, and the not so secret glances of lust that occasionally came his way. He knew the man wanted to take him- but he had not. and that was the truth. "He is merely my master-He bought me, then saved me. That is all." The brutal man saved him? Worm thought after he spoke, and wondered if that was true. Was that really how he felt?  

"Are you alright?" Loruge asked him, his voice now soft. He was looking at him questioningly, searching the boy’s face for even the slightest hint of a lie, but found none.

Worm answered stoically, struggling with his new frame of mind, "Yes." was all he said before tunnel vision claimed him, and he fainted.

 

  ***  

 

"What have you done to him?" Loruge turned on the brutal man, after tucking the boy into bedding in the back. It would take some time for his mental fortitude to acclimate to the outside word- the world of making choices, the one of free thought. "He can barely think for himself-" The doctor continued ranting before he was cut off—the man had rounded on him, their faces close, eyes meeting. They had known each other for over a decade, and lived with each other for almost all of that. Their relationship with each other was the only semi real relationship either one of them had ever had.  The thought of which continually vexed Loruge over the years in a primal way.

Neither one of them backed down from their confrontation in the front room. The sky was growing dark out side and the sound of day to day activity had grown faint. When the brutal man had emerged from the bathroom just moments ago, Loruge had pounced on him like a cat- so quickly that the steam had been still raising from the man’s skin.

The scarred man was clothed in old garments, his wet hair hanging well past his shoulders. The plain robe that he wore covered his arms, chest and waist, ending at his ankles. his feet were bare. The strip of cloth that protected his nose was still there, still the same one he had worn before. The dirty cloth pressed against his skull and billowed with his fury. 

Loruge was the first to step away, as he tried to cool his temper and forced logic to take over. He took a deep breath, and silently cooled the fire that was building inside. "That was unfair of me. I know what made him like that..." he said, as he began to draw his fingers lightly across the vials as he began to pace the room, eyes downcast.

"Just as it was unfair of you- to suddenly show up today." It was now that he got to the heart of the matter, when they were alone. Loruge had thought about the man’s possible return, so many times before. He had replayed the night that they shared, over and over in his head- trying to figure where he had went wrong. What he should have done differently. But he could never come up with the reason that he would have left so swiftly, under the cover of night. “You have to acknowledge that.”

 

He gave a small reluctant nod, the man accepted that. “Don’t you understand what you did to me when you left?” Loruge offered as stopped and looked him. 

The brutal’s chest felt tight as his clenched his teeth. It was always about Loruge, never about anyone else.

“I thought you were dead! And then.. when those stories started coming in. Of what you were doing- a lot of people in the town could not believe it.”

The brutal man crossed his arms and deflected his face. The last thing he wanted to hear about was how something he did affected other people. These where the same  ‘other people’ who he knew would not have given two shits if he had shown up dead. It was all just fodder for their gossip.

“People started to question me! Assuming I had something to do with all of it! When it came out- I thought everyone would turn me in for sure. I am lucky that these people remembered what I did for them. What we did for them.” Loruge looked down and clutched his hand to his chest. “and now here you are- back- with a boy in tow. Just tell me- was that the problem? Was I too old, even for a younger you?”

At this the man snapped- bringing his fist up, he slammed it with his full force into the stone wall with his bare hand. Blood spattered from his flesh from the shear force, and he gritted his teeth in pain.

Loruge looked at him, wide eyed. The last time he had seen the man, he was just nearing the end of his change, still two heads shorter then what he was now and not nearly so wide. He had become a man. “It’s true then- you have not taken him-”

The man let his fist fall, and sighed. They looked into each other’s eyes and came to a shaky understanding. “I will teach him to read-” he said. “He has a quick mind. But promise me something-” Loruge tried to look away but his eyes kept returning to the brutal man’s own. “Before you leave...would you...just one last time?”

The brutal man’s eyes flashed pure fury, and he snorted up as much phlegm as he could, spitting it on the ground before him. He turned then, and walked back into the back room.

 

 

The doctor sighed- he had given up everything for the man. His home, his job, and if they ever found him, his life. He used to be an elite. 

He thought back to finding that sputtering form in the mountain of corpses, breathing what Loruge had thought would be close to his last. He recognized his face, even with is covered in blood and missing his nose. It was the worker he had been watching. He had only a spit second to make a decision, and he had acted fast. Stealing one of the compounds black horses, he had clutched the barely alive boy to his chest, and they had run away.

His obsessions had always gotten the better of him, he reflected.

He had come to this town, moving into an abandoned building, covered in his black uniform he had sold his scitmar and all he had of value for medical supplies. He had been trained in the art of healing as well as combat. He would try to save him. 

Looking back, Loruge realized that maybe he should have just left him, and that would have been that.. he knew, though, in his heart, that he would have given up everything all over again just to have that night again.  

 

***

 

Worm awoke the next day with the remnants of a headache. He shifted his groggy body and felt a thick straw futon below him, elevating his form above the hard floor. It was so comfortable, he thought, and he rolled on his stomach to enjoy the pillow under his face, and the blanket covering his back. Sighing, his circumstances came creeping back into his mind, little by little, and he just wanted them to go away.

He felt overwhelmed, like a crowd of 100 people were surrounding him, each demanding something from him, all at the same time. Loruge’s questions had seemed to push his already frayed mental state, and the last thing he wanted to do was fall back into a barrage of them. He willed his eyes to stay shut tightly as he tried to keep ignoring the sunlight seeping into his eyelids. Under the blankets, it was slowly becoming sweltering.

It was the heat that eventually forced him out of his natural stasis- and sitting up, he felt the sweat that covered his body keenly. He yawned and looked around with foggy eyes, ascertaining that he was in the back room of Loruge’s house quickly.

He was set up in the far corner, the wall on his left was the divider of the two rooms, and on his right was only one sleeping futon, rolled up tight. 

Only one? the boy thought, as he stretched his limbs and stood up.

 

The back room was constructed much the same as the front room, only this private one had much more storage. There were so many drawers and shelves occupying the the wall he now faced, along with a clothes rack pushed to one side. the windows in this room matched square like the ones in front, voices and sounds vibrating through this opening and filling the boy’s ears. 

To the left of the storage, there was another room with only a cloth hanging in the door way. It was dim inside, and he surmised that it must have been the washroom. Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass came from the front room and a voice swore loudly. 

Through the hanging cloth, he could hear Loruge, now mumbling under his breath. The doctor was someone that he wanted to avoid for the moment, and he stood there awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do. It turned out that that was a problem that would solve itself.

Loruge pulled the cloth to one side and almost ran into the him, “You’re up.” he blurted, after a surprised jolt. “I just was wondering if you were alright.” He seemed different from last night, Worm thought. Maybe the sleep had cleared his head. Looking up into the doctor’s face, he stood wide eyed, then searched the front room partially concealed behind him.

“Are you looking for your ‘master’?” Loruge muttered sarcastically before he could catch himself. Worm just looked at him. 

“I have no idea where he has gone.” was that guilt in the doctor’s voice? something had happened after he had fainted, Worm thought, but he knew he had no choice but to stay put and await the brutal man’s return. to do anything else would be to undermine his master.

They just looked at each other, neither sure of what to say, until loruge curled his nose and broke the tension, “you now need to take a bath. you are almost as disgusting as him.” he went to the drawers and pulled one out. It was filled with large, neutral colored cloths. They were thicker then normal sheets, and soft. as it was handed to him, Worm had to control the urge to rub the soft fabric against his face.

“That is where the towels are,” Loruge began, breaking down the organization system quickly, pointing and tapping to what he talked about as he spoke. “This is where the blankets and sleeping items go, these will be your drawers, as soon as we find you some suitable clothes. These are my drawers- do not touch them.” he glanced back at worm while saying this, his eyes narrow with threat.

“This is where I placed your pack-” he gestured to the bag as it lay on the floor, untouched and still filled with his items. “-and this is the washroom.” He walked over to the smaller door way and pulled the cloth to one side, indicating with his other hand that the boy was to enter.

The washroom was private, something that the boy had never seen. His entire life, the compound had made them bathe together before standing outside. There he had to share a large trough of water with 9 other boys and the water was never clean. Strange substances always floated on the surface, and the bottom was obscured by the dirt and grime. they all had shared one towel and a chunk of suspicious soap, before dawning their loin clothes and getting to work. 

This was something completely different.

The floor was more of the same stone, but here the walls were bare and clean except for a small mirror in the corner. There was a large metal tub, square in shape, and filled with clear water. Looking into it, Worm could see his reflection, and he was amazed. Outside of the tub, there was a stool and wash sponge, along with a bucket and a large block of pale beige soap that smelled of sweet earth.

Worm must have shown pleasant surprise on his face, because Loruge quickly turned a soft shade of red before continuing with his talking. “Wash up and then we will find you some decent clothes, and start with your training..” he said. “I will leave some spare robes that might be small enough for you wear hanging near the door.”

He turned to leave, but then stopped before he said one more thing, “I am sorry if i came off as hard last night. You will be here for a while, so please, let’s try and get along.” Loruge looked at him, and his delicate features were now soft, something that seemed much more appropriate for him. 

Worm felt his lips lightly separate before he licked them and nodded.

Wherever his master had gone, he had to believe that he would not leave him. He had to have faith that he would come back. Thought gently swirled through his mind as he watched the doctor leave and knew that this training was necessary for him. After all, a resourceful man like his master did not just leave a dull knife made of strong steel. He simply sharpened it.

 

 

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End Part Three

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	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor and the boy adjust to their situation, meanwhile the man receives a shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, Rose, for the comments!  
> It makes me so happy that you enjoy my story.  
> :^D

\----------------------------------------  
Part Four  
\----------------------------------------

 

After his bath, Worm’s cleanliness was judged acceptable by Loruge, and the doctor followed through with his intent of getting the boy some decent clothes.  
  
The older man picked up a small pouch from one of his personal drawers, and after they both left his his home, he shut the broken door of the stone building up tight behind them. The doctor looked at Worm to ascertain he was still near, and then they were off into the town’s modest market.  
  
The town was as busy as the day that he and his master arrived, but this time people only smiled. The towns people were all men, some old and some young- but all male. Worm had never seen a woman with his own eyes, but what he had gleaned from men who had pretended that he was one, was that they were delicate and enchanting. Indeed, these tales could have just been made up myths that they themselves believed.  
  
With the absence of women, some men did dress differently- more delicately. Their robes had a little extra embroidery, or they had a colorful head scarf. These were subtle ways that they showed their preference openly.  
Loruge was hard to pinpoint in where is preference lied. Some men simply did not couple, and died- never satisfied. The boy wondered if the doctor was one. Thinking back to the conversation the night before, he remembered Loruge’s prying questions about his and his masters relationship.  
  
Loruge seemed to know that Worm was thinking of him, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably. They walked together along the sandy road and Worm glanced ay him questioningly. Loruge then started to say something, but caught his breath and then both said nothing.  
  
The space in-between the ruddy red buildings was wide and accommodating, and occasionally a camel passed them by, laden with packages and fabrics, piled high into the air. Men called from stands that appeared every few buildings, calling their wares in pleasant voices, giving an extra shout when they saw that it was the doctor, and then Loruge would wave.  
  
“So... what types of clothes would you like to wear...?” Loruge asked awkwardly, not knowing what else to say. “It is fine to have working clothes, but everyone must have a pair of nice clothes. Especially when you will be helping me. People will look to you with respect, and you will have to earn that. The way you dress helps.”  
  
“I will wear whatever will suit work with my master.” Worm said matter of factly, like there was never a question in his mind.  
Loruge snorted. “The look of a vagabond?”  
“The look of a warrior.” Worm replied.  
Loruge rolled his eyes and said nothing.  
  
This boy was of such a singular mindset- he tried to think back- had the man ever been like that? When he had woken up from his coma, he was accommodating in everything. following tasks and orders perfectly. Had he looked at Loruge the same way the boy now looked at him? The thought made him sick to his stomach.  
  
“Fine.” Loruge reluctantly agreed. For now, he would let the boy cling to the only thing that made sense in his life. His allegiance to a tortured man.  
  
They made their way through the market place with more purpose now, taking turns and ending up near the second well circle. The booth they approached had deep green tarps that had been bleached by the sun, and square wooden window shutters propped open, filling the building inside.  
  
Loruge pushed back the flap and invited the boy inside. In the dimmer room, his eyes had begun adjusting. They were in an equipment store.  
  
Displayed around the room were samples of armor and clothing in a range of color. Loruge knew that this shop was of a higher quality, and capable of custom work due to a billow and forge in the back. He did not know what he expected in the realm of the boy’s reaction, indeed he was not aware that he was expecting anything at all, but worm’s expression was not what he anticipated. The boy’s face was impassive as he examined the different styles and garments, looking around until he came back to facing Loruge. "I am fine with any of them." He said without much inflection.  
  
Lourgue was at a loss for comment for a moment, and again wondered how much he had made himself forget of the compound and the difficult time after they had left it. He had picked the man’s clothes for him, he remembered, and had decided everything for him. It was only now, many years later, that he felt guilt. Since when did thinking of the man make him feel like that? It had been since he met Worm. Someone who could talk. Someone where he could see the obvious mental damage that was done.  
  
Although Loruge called himself a doctor, he was still a warrior, and thus thought as such. Empathy, back then, had been the furthest thing from his mind. Thinking of the proposition that he made to the hulking beast of a man just the night before, he realized how little he had changed. It was no wonder why he had left.  
  
The armor that surround them was done in a light weight style, the wide cloth pants and plates of armor laid systematically on top. The chest plates had no connecting arm pieces, but instead had bracers to buckle on to the wearer’s fore arms. It was lightweight, durable, and had linen wrapped shoes with a hard sole.  
  
Worm looked at all of them, knowing that this more than what he deserved. He had done no real work yet- and therefore deserved no real pay. It was true that he was indifferent to all of the colors and styles, none of them weighing in his mind as a factor of deciding. He simply pointed to the plainest looking one he could find.  
"That one?" Loruge said, relieved that he had finally decided on one.  
"Yes." Worm replied. It was as good as any.  
  
Loruge looked at the plain dark grey and white in the corner, it’s simplicity somehow fit the young man, and his no nonsense way of thinking. Loruge paid, and the boy’s measurements were taken.  
  
Outside, the boy bowed and did not know what to say.  
Loruge just let out a tsk- and averted his eyes as he said, "Don’t bow to me. Bow to your precious master when he returns. He left a bag with money and he left a note, with instructions to buy you the things that you will need.”  
  
The conformation that he was not left behind made a weight lift off of his chest as they continued with their shopping trip. The brutal man would not put money into something that he would not come back for, and the knowledge was comforting. They continued and bought Worm all the appropriate things he would need for his journey. They visited a weavers shop, for a small, organizational basket, and a tailors shop for personal garments and two extra keffyas- which were particularly plain ones. Finally they bought some plain, but well made robes for him to wear as he assisted Loruge in his medical duties.  
  
It was strange, Worm noted, that the man himself dressed in disgusting poverty. All of his clothes were well worn and his tools and equipment were shabby. But here, the boy was dressing in mild finery. His curiosity about the man grew the more he knew.

***

Over the next few weeks, Worm stayed with the doctor, and almost everyday was the same. They woke up with the sun in the early morning, and prepared medicines and poultices- which were heavily supervised. Loruge seemed more patient when they were working on medicinal theory, his mind never stopped thinking. He would give careful instructions on what to measure and how much- always offering more information on an ingredient. While they were mixing, he would give reasons on why or why not to mix one item with another, and then quiz worm on the things he had learned on pervious days.  
  
After they had filled orders for the day, a pile of papers was pulled out and they would sit across from each other. It was time for reading and writing. While it was true that worm excelled quickly, learning to read and write took time. Loruge drew out the vowels of the alphabet, in pristine quality, and instructed worm on how they sounded. He exaggerated his mouth movements and then encouraged the boy to repeat them while writing long lists of the same letter.  
  
It was during his time practicing that Loruge would see his patients. They would either come to his home, and he would sit them on a rolled out futon, examining them or administering treatments. Worm often times would steal glances when Loruge indicated that a patient should lay down. He knew then, something incredibly strange was about to happen.  
  
Loruge would hold out his hands, palms facing down, almost touching his patients skin. They would then sit there for a long while until the doctors head slowly bent back, his face would go lax and his eyes closed. It seemed like time would cease it’s endless churning for these spans of time. The wind itself even abided, and stopped whistling through the windows.  
  
Worm would not even swallow, he too would become so wrapped up in the trance. and when Loruge finally awaked from the trance, the spell would be broken- and Worm would see that it was only a few moments that had passed. The patient would breathe easier, or their pain would be subsiding, and they would bow and thank the doctor.  
  
Sometimes they would barter for his services- bringing him food and water. Other times, his more well off patients would bring modest bags of gold- but that happened rarely. All he had seemed to have come from trade.  
  
After his patients came and went the doctor would cook a modest dinner, the paper and charcoal writers removed from the table. More often then not they ate in silence- Worm cleaning up after the meal. After retreating to the backroom, when the moon was high in the sky and loruge had fallen asleep, Worm would take out the folded piece of paper he still kept in his loin cloth wrap, and would carefully unfold it. He looked at the way the letters were written and the heaviness of the hand that wrote them.  
  
He would recognize some of the letters, and make the sounds as best he could without making a sound. Every night he knew more of the letters- but at the end of the week, even after he knew all of the letters, he could still not decipher the contents of the message. When the sounds ran together- the words were clumsy and sometimes he was unsure of the exact sounds each would make when they were placed side by side.  
  
Regardless, holding that piece of paper made him think of his master- and that moment of understanding that they had shared. Would he acknowledge it when he returned, Worm wondered, and often fell asleep to this question that often appeared in his mind.

****

The man had left that night, gathering his old, dirty clothes into his thick pack. He had wanted to hit Loruge so badly. He had wanted to feel the cast iron knuckles on his fist to connect with that smug bastards face- but he had thought better of it. He needed the doctor to teach the boy to read if he was going to coexist with him.  
  
Coexist.. the word made fear and bile rise to his throat and he wanted to throw up into his drink.  
  
He was currently dominating the corner or a nearby bar, he had walked out the door of Loruge’s home not one hour ago, and had found himself here. He was to young before he had left this town left to patron this place, so now in his older age he was finding this to be a new experience. There were many low tables spread out in a low building that was half submerged into the ground, helping in the heat of the day.

It was still early in the night so there were still men all around, some already had had too much to drink, their rowdiness and brash behavior slowly increasing as the night wore on. They were served drinks with regularity, roars of laughter intermidintly erupting amongst the crowd.  
  
The man sat alone, and drank his thick ale, he was offered hookah, but he refused, he needed his lungs to fight.  
  
Looking into the brew below him, he wondered what the fuck was he doing.  
He knew the Scorpions were after him. He had baited the hook for his predators on purpose by going back to The Compound. The night he had prepared himself to take the final plunge and dedicate himself to vengeance, but he found that he could not go through with it.  
  
He was weak, just as he continued to be now. Thinking of taking the boy with him- what could possibly happen from that? He let his mind wander to the vision of repulsion that had crossed the boy face as he had hovered over him. He had almost taken him. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks- was he not being just like had Loruge had been? The selfish bastard had taken what he thought was his and the man had beent to weak to refuse.  
  
He slammed the empty glass on the table in angry confusion. Cohabitation? he must have been stupid. holding his head in his hands and leaning over the table- he was too deep in the well of his own black soul, that he did not see what was transpiring in front of him.  
  
A thin man was making his rounds among the tables. His robes were long, but shear- letting the light play off of his muscles in very sensual way. He held a large jug, and poured a fermented drink into raised glasses, smiling as he went. Halfway through the rounds of tables not a mug, but a strong arm reached out and drug the man down into a patron’s lap. The thin man in the shear fabric struggled, trying to stand back up, but a strong hand was placed over his mouth, and the rowdy sounds of the bar covered the sounds of his struggle.  
  
Men grabbed at him, and he squinted his eyes shut, continuing to thrash. It was then he found his opportune moment, and as his captor adjusted the hand covering his mouth, the thin man bit down as hard.  
  
His captor shouted in in surprise and pain. “You fuck!” he exclaimed, as he brought up a fist and prepared to strike the form beneath him. The thin man braced for a blow that never came, and as he opened his eyes to a scene that filled him with relief.  
  
His captors hand was being held by one even larger. It was the man who had been sitting in the corner, the one that some of the older men had recognized. To the thin man, though, he just looked like a horror.  
  
His captor had a stunned look on his face, but the man from the corner looked like he could have bee chiseled from stone. The man with the missing nose then took a slow inward breath, and with speed that was literally painful, the man exhaled with a grunt, and squeezed. The bones in his captor’s arm crumpled like brittle twigs, and he fell backward, clutching his arm and screaming.  
  
The mutilated man then reached down his other hand, and offered to help the thin man up. The man in the shear clothing hesitated before taking the offer, and was pulled to his feet. “thank you-” he managed to stutter before the man was already heading back to his seat.  
He took the opportunity to make his way and follow the creature that saved him.  
He quickly strode over to the table, trying to catch his breath from the narrow escape he had made. The thin man had never seen bones broken like that— no one was that strong— but it had transpired before his very eyes.  
His hulking savior was already taking another deep drink from his mug, and those harsh grey eyes seemed surprised that the thin man had followed him.  
  
“Thank you so much.” he thin man continued, sitting down and using a free hand to move his garments out of the way. He was young, with olive skin and long dark eyelashes. “That man- he would have raped me.” his eyes were wide as he said this- like the idea was unheard of. If only he knew, the dark man half smiled.  
  
The thin man saw the smile and did not know how to take it, his face hesitated for a moment, before he continued. “you wont pay for anything all night. It’s all on me.” he offered, but the man just shook his head no.  
  
“I have to repay you someway.” he offered, and he could not hide all the fear that creeped into his smooth face.  
  
The man reached his pocket and pulled out a notebook. The thin man watched as the monster flipped through pages, some which had blood stains on them, to a blank page. He wrote something in his heavy way of writing, and then offered the message to the man across from him.  
  
‘information’ it said. ‘have you seen any men in black?’  
  
The thin man felt relieved and then uneasy. Who was this stranger to be asking about men in black? He thought for a moment and then said, “Just one. I remember seeing him around the parameter of the city. I remember I thought it was strange that he was heading for the old town, a few miles to the west. No one goes there anymore.”  
  
The man stood up, put away his notebook away and threw more than enough gold on the table in front of the thin man who was obviously surprised. The brutal man nodded his thanks, and while wrapping his cloak tightly, stepped out the door into the chill night air.

***

The man made his way to the old city, the large dark bag that was slung across his broad back kept biting into his shoulders, making them sore. It had taken him all evening and all day. Now, in the middle of the ruins, the night had once again matured and the wind rustled the cloth wrapped around his head.  
  
The old town had been abandoned before he or Loruge had escaped The Compound. The well that had given the residents much needed water was now dried up and the rocks that had once surrounded the hole had long ago collapsed into that deep, black abyss.  
  
No matter how much he forced his eyes to pay attention to the surrounding landscape, the old well had kept drawing the man’s eye. His brain tried to force his body to obey, to survey the landscape, but his muscles moved by their own accord, and he found himself inching closer to that foreboding pit. Before long, he was peering into the murky quagmire that had once been a great source of life. Of security.  
  
His fierce grey eyes tried to see to the bottom as his mind tried to make sense of the well’s unearthly presence, but that inky darkness just called to him. He could hear it’s voice through his bones as his mind quietly filled with static, and his eyes began to loose focus.  
  
A sharp pain cruelly jolted him back to reality as he fell to the ground- his knee was screaming. The bones that made up the complex joint ground against each other as his body hit the earth hard from the pain and force- his mind still in shock.  
  
In a move more akin to reflexes rather than rational thought, he reached for the iron gauntlets that always hung at his side, only to discover, with a sickening lurch of his stomach, that he only had one.  
  
The brutal man screamed as he looked around frantically for the other weapon, his eyes desperately searching for that crude, black metal. Meanwhile, out of the shadows to his left, a man appeared, laughing. He seemed unfurl from the darkness itself, the inky lack of light was what clothed him, smokey tendrils wrapping around his strong form, and his eyes reflected the moon like a cat’s.  
  
He was laughing, but the man could only hear the sound filtered through the magnitude of pain that was flashing through his mind like lightning. Gritting his teeth, he looked up through his lids to the stranger who flashed his impossibly white teeth.  
  
The stranger who clothed himself with the night then spoke with an obviously deranged voice. “You’re arrogance is your downfall,” he laughed as he moved, waving his arms in grandiose gestures. The shadow clad man walked with easy confidence around the brutal man, who merely growled in response. He had manipulated the shadows from the well, the brutal man realized. He had fallen in to a trap.  
  
The man in black continued to chuckle, bending over at times, waving his arms in short, erratic movements. “You think you can just stroll in, take what you want and leave?” the thought was clearly absurd to him, and he continued with with his twisted voice, “You thought wrong. I will be the one to take you to Master, so he can finish what he started. Then maybe I will take your little concubine for myself!” he exclaimed before erupting into manacle laughter.  
  
The man felt the smallest amount of fear pool into his chest but he forced it out- there was no time for that. This is what his training was for, to snuff out any weaknesses. He had to be prepared to do what needed to be done at any critical moment, or he would undoubtably fail. He breathed slowly and deeply, forcing his mind to focus, collecting all of the energy that he could from the deepest reaches of his miserable body. That faint electricity that vibrated through his being, the same electricity that endowed his moves with supernatural strength, was scattered like so many grains of sand. He had to concentrate, feeling those impossible small molecules, forcing them together with sheer will power.  
  
The shadow man collected himself and strode forward, and with a wave of his hand, the shadows that clothed him gathered at his arm and solidified into a single sharp edge, as long as his fore arm, and wickedly sharp.  
  
The brutal man had known about these elite, but he did not anticipate one coming after him so quickly. Master must have been in a rush quell the one man army, and his tactical choice was making the man grind his teeth in frustration at his own complacency. The brutal man forced himself to see through his fear- knock away his thoughts, and collect his energy.  
  
It was his only shot.  
The Scorpion had paused in his walking, and with a swift movement-he twisted his body to bring that blade down on the man, aiming for his clenched fist. The man had only a split second to act:  
  
Combining two movements in one, he rotated his body on his hip and caught the blade in his one metal clad hand. The Scorpion was surprised and he let out a shout as the brutal man’s other hand snaked behind the shadowy knee, pulling him down into the sand beside him.  
  
The shadows around The Scorpion’s body snaked around the man’s arms as they grappled there on the ground. The black tendrils of smoke made their way up his arms- and he had to suppress a shiver when they made their way to his bare neck. They felt like fingers made of cool air, soft and gentle before they wrapped around his neck tightly and squeezed.  
  
The man coughed, but not before he obtained the upper hand in their grappling battle there on the sandy floor. His bandaged and scared hands were wrapped around the stranger’s fore arms- his concentration on warping the shadow tentacles tighter and tighter.  
  
The brutal man could feel his eyes swelling, and his face heating up. Without the ability to breathe, he had a limited amount of strength in which to make what had to be the final move. Using his good leg and pulling with his arms, yanked The Scorpion into a body roll, positioning the other man’s body over him for a split second, before pushing with all his might, forcing his foe into that deep bottomless well.  
  
His ears could only hear him on the way down, he fell so fast. his eyes had been clenched shut with effort, but the scream was all the conformation that he needed. Down and down it went, deeper and deeper into the earth as the brutal man gulped down air as fast as he could manage.  
  
The pain still sharp in his knee, as he shifted his body to fall onto his back. He grunted and took a moment to process what had just happened. This was real- these people... they seemed to have powers like he. The ability to tap into one’s own connection with existence itself, feeling that energy. Connecting with pure being.  
  
The ability he had learned from Loruge.  
He grimaced in pain and thought back to it now—Loruge had been one of whatever he had just flung down the well. As he realized this, he now remembered that he had never seen Loruge amongst the guards back at The Compound. He only knew a few names, but knew almost all the faces.  
All of them except the higher ups—the ones that always worked in that big, square building that watched over them all.  
He slammed his fist into the ground beside him and let out an angry scream.  
Loruge. That bastard.

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Four  
\----------------------------------------


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The man returns, the doctor reflects and the boy has learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Gizella: I cannot thank you enough for your comments and interest!  
> It means so much to me!

\----------------------------------------  
Part Five  
\----------------------------------------

Worm’s studies with Loruge continued- and although the doctor would never admit it, he grew to enjoy having an assistant. After living alone for so long, he enjoyed the company, and truly, somewhere below, the doctor hoped Worm would stay. 

He knew, though, that the boy would never choose to him over the man. As soon as he came back- Loruge would be left alone to rot with his bitterness. 

Everyday that he spent with Worm, nagging guilt slowly rose into his chest, and he faced an uncomfortable reality about himself.  
He was, truly, a selfish bastard. 

He had blinded himself to the reality of how much he had hurt the only person he thought he really loved. but in reality, he only loved himself.

Seeing the boy- mindful in his every move, intelligence flashing behind his eyes during every lesson- the doctor then knew how much he had damaged the man. It was not love he had seen- in the 19 year old’s steel grey eyes, over a decade ago.  
It was adoration. 

The way Worm sometimes looked, when his eyes were far away and his face seemed almost innocent again–those were the times he reminded the doctor of the brutal man- back when he had not been brutal at all.

Back then, he had still been horribly disfigured, but there was an inner beauty about him that seemed to radiate. The only thing that could made someone shine like that was the connection of being. Within the mute man, the connection was so strong it was beautiful. 

Connections like these, Loruge knew, could only be created by touching the other side—and then returning. It was thus he decided to do something completely forbidden.  
He would teach him.

Even he did not know what he chose to do this. Was it because he saw potential in the young boy? or was to to share an activity with him? He had still did not full accepted his obsesion for the boy. He just knew he wanted to be closer to him. In what ever way. After all, not everyone had the gift.

They soon began to spend the afternoons sitting in the shade, listening to the world go by around them, while simply existing. With clear heads and dull bodies- they let their minds drift with the rhythm of the world, and after a while the power became a part of him. It manifested itself into the scarred young man’s body, and melded with it. 

His physical form then began to grow. His strength became incredible and his body became more broad and his muscles expanded. His skeleton also grew in height and his hands became like small boulders.

Everyday he would try different demonstrations of power. The doctor remembered seeing him scoop up a pile of dirt, and compress it in his hands. The day had been hot, and sweat dripped off the young man’s nose as he pushed with all his strength into his hands- and the pile would shudder and then get smaller. Pulling his hands apart, the rock would then fall to the ground, the only describable feature on its surface were two perfectly indented hand prints.

These feats of unnatural strength never terrified Loruge, but they reminded him that the young man was no longer a boy anymore. The radiation that he put out soon became even more magnetic, in ways that Loruge could no longer try his best ignore.

The way his face was always kind when tending to those weaker than him. His eye were clear and his irises that were the color of the rare rainclouds that brought life from the sky. They were so enthralling, they could almost make you forget that uncomfortable absence of his nose. His hair was so dark that it was almost black, and it reflected a nut brown shine in the sunlight. Loruge found himself wanting to run his fingers though that hair. He wanted to see that body with out it’s clothes, wanted to kiss every part to the young man that brought him intense shame. In his arrogance, he thought he could show the damaged young man of what love could be.

He began to catch the young man’s glances when he could. Meeting the young man’s gaze. Surely someone with his experience had to know the doctors intended meaning. The way he would then give a smile, or look at him in a sly way. That was always the one constant. The young man would always be the first to break their visual contact.

Loruge had thought that those steel colored eyes were returning his sly affections, but being with Worm made him realize that he was wrong. He now knew that they were instead glances that one might have given a caregiver, or a father, but not a lover.

Back then he had been ignorant. Back then, those innocent glances had turned him on. He told himself that the young man was playing a role, that he knew how much those looks were enticing the doctor. Making him think of the dirty things that had hid behind his longtime obsession.  
He only tried vainly to ignore them.

While eating, he began to notice the curve of those scared lips, the pale pink flesh uneven and jagged. All the doctor could think of was how those lips would feel around him. He wondered what the inside of his mouth would feel like, knowing the insides of that organ system since he had taken care of it. Since it was he who had tried to put it back in working order, back when the young man had been drifting in and out of a painful conscious.

Loruge began to allow these fantasies to dominate his mind. These tantalizing visions of the young man taking over his brain. He could not stop thinking of all the ways he wanted him. Soon, he found these fantasies becoming too much for him to bear, it was impossible for him to stop thinking about it.

He wanted to see the young man beneath him- wanted to see him without that cloth across on his face so he could stare into his real face. He wanted to see him in all his shameful and perverse beauty. He wanted to see his expressions changing underneath him. He wanted to feel his body when he lost all of the control of himself. 

Loruge needed to see him like that, raw and open as he would enter his body. The tightness of the muscled clutching his shaft intimately, welcoming him into it’s warmest reaches as he would find the rhythm of their bodies together.

These thoughts tortured him for weeks, and soon the doctor was finding reasons to touch him, reasons for them bumping into each other in the narrow door ways. The young man never resisted, and the doctor, continued to lie to himself. He needed to think that the young man also wanted this.

In his selfishness had not realized that it was merely compliance, and in the chill of the night, Loruge had begun to draw slowly closer.

The first time Loruge awoke wrapped around the younger man’s body—he was as surprised as the one he now found himself wrapped around. He must have moved subconsciously in his sleep, his body wrapping itself around the form that was constantly in mind.

Loruge had tried to play cool, unwrapping his arms and legs from the boys and getting up like nothing in particular happened. The doctor kept waiting for the younger man to say something about the encounter, but he never did. After that, though, every time it was deliberate. As the boy fell asleep he would draw closer, wanting once again to have that feeling of closeness. He would smell the strong scent of his hair, and he would mold his body to his. It felt so natural. It felt so right. It was like nothing the warrior had ever felt before.

At first he would try to hide his growing member, diverting it to the side, but as the familiarity grew, Loruge began to grow bolder. He started to press his penis into the that soft, scarred rear. He pretended to ignore the boy’s briefly shuddering body, and the way his eyes went dead.

Until one night it all just became too much. 

Loruge knew he was playing with fire–after all, such a brilliance could never be contained. But he was human, and it was in his nature to at least try it.

The following night he made his plan, and when the moon was high he moved in closer and inhaled deeply. The boy only faintly trembled.

He breathed in deep and exhaled, letting his lips trail over those perfect ears. It was a wonder they had been the only things, left in pristine condition. “You know, I have always loved you...” the doctor exhaled, lifting his body up, so his own hair fell down over the younger man’s shoulders, horribly slashed with skin uneven, his eyes open but unseeing.

“Ever since i first laid eyes on you... I knew there was something about you. I sacrificed so much for you. I left everything for you, I took care of you. I have proved my love for you, all these years.” He could feel his organ swelling, throbbing as the younger man turned to him.

Those eyes! tormented and alluring, it made Loruge want to fuck they way he did when he was in training. Living with all those other boys, he be came obsessed with finding the right one. The perfect one. To know if they were the one.

The first time he saw the man, he instantly knew. He knew when he first saw him in the line outside, under the tarps in the sunlight. He remembered him then, a figure of beauty. He knew he had to have him. Just to gaze at him.  
He remembered all this, instantly when he gazed into those eyes.

When the younger man looked up at him, he paused and then briefly nodded, surrendering his body for the doctor to do as he pleased.

Loruge lost all control of himself then. He nuzzled into the you man’s neck, kissing it sensually, breathing deep, trying to take in all he could of the younger man, who was not doing anything at all. His hand’s clenched and he shut those eyes that looked like tempered steel. 

At the time, Loruge would have told him self any lie so he could keep going, so he could take his pleasure. But as the older him thought back on it, he realized he had needed no convincing.

The young man’s eyes were squinted shut from dread and fear bot Loruge still went through with it. And he enjoyed it. Te entered the young man, taking everything from him him with those thrusts, letting that hole swallow the most sensitive part of him. He told himself he was making love to him, but in reality he was just pleasing himself.

 

It was this harsh reality that he now realized—as he continued teaching Worm how to read. Watching him work with those letters with single minded devotion—he was reminded of how vulnerable the young man had been.

He sighed with regret, and tried, at least for the moment, to look at the second chance he was given. Not many times did life give one the chance to redeem themselves in the exact same manner in which they had been disgraced. He had almost missed it.

It only increased, the amount that Worm and his mannerism continued to affect his psyche. Continued to drown him in the past. He thought he would surely drown in guilt and depravity. Especially when he was studying so hard, working those cogs behind his brain. Stretching the muscles he had never the right equipment for.

Little did he know that the boy was studying not for himself, but for someone else.

As he learned how the letters made sounds when paired, Worm picked up more clues. He could almost read the note. The folded piece of paper was now worn smooth, the movement of his skin and the cloth he wore repeatedly rubbing over it. 

Before he was learning to read, he simply observed it’s physical form. looked at and noticed the paper. What it was made of. Textured and thick, still stained with the weather and dirt. the writing itself was straight and dark black. The writer had pressed with enough force to make the sheet indented with their strokes. The entire message was still smeared with blood. The blood was what kept it real. Was what reminded the boy that this did indeed happen, because sometimes the past did not feel like reality at all.

‘a’... that was called an a. There were manny of those letters here. Along with ‘e’s... these are vowels. This letter, It’s bigger than all of the rest. It makes the same sound, but it must be important... for some reason. I have not learned that yet... he looked around.

This place, sleeping through the night, the fact that he was being treated like he was something of value at all. It seemed overwhelming, but with the man, he felt safe.

It was a few weeks of piecing all the letters into words together until one night, he finally had it. He could read the message.

The night was dark, and his heart had been racing all day at the thought of being able to read it. after this mornings lesson, he knew he could crack the case. He had thought about reading it earlier in the day, but the night time reading had become a ritual for him. something that seemed wrong to break when he finally had all the pieces. So he waited until that night, while he lie in bed and unfolded it.

Next to him, Loruge was breathing steadily, occasionally repositioning himself on the straw mattress. He knew the man was asleep. It was not that he did not trust the doctor- in fact he had grown to respect his knowledge- but his master was still his master- and he had complete allegiance to him. 

This was a private communication. One that the boy knew the brutal man had intended for the the boy would read when they would still be apart. 

His brown eyes took his time, reading the letter, and knowing his name.  
“Maggot,” it said.  
“because to them, I might as well was one.”  
Worm knew exactly how the man felt.

Being reminded that he was just garbage, having every shred of dignity taken away from him, until there was nothing left. Only emptiness. That night, he thought his pain would finally come to an end. The only thing he looked forward to was that blackness at the end of it all. Embracing him. Until the man had taken him away. Now he had something in his chest instead of emptiness. It felt like a lump that just would not go away. 

With Worm’s and Loruge’s nostalgia covering the small hovel, a warm sense of calmness infected the home and lasted a few days.

It was then that the man came back.

***

Loruge had taken to sitting outside at night, smoking hookah. Letting the night air flow through his hair, blowing the strands about. It was rich tabbaco that had just been bartered to him, and he had begun to look forward to it every evening. Sitting out side in the waining light, he felt relaxed, and his worried seemed to leave his mind.

His legs were crossed, and his feet were bare, letting the evening air ghost over them. As he exhaled the smoky, tar laced treat, he saw through the parting smoke, a man approaching.  
Judging my the girth it could only have been one man, and that was his steel eyed warrior– coming back to claim what was his.

Loruge had a sentence ready on his lips, when instead he noticed the branch the man leaned on. The was he limped. Still, despite his injury, there was more fire in his eyes than exhaustion. As he approached, Loruge found he could not say anything at all as the man tossed his open dirty notebook onto his lap. 

‘You fucking bastard, you knew and yet you said nothing.’

Loruge opened his mouth to retort, but the man forced his attention back down toward the paper as he reached out another hand to turn the page. ‘You used to be one of them! on the inside! you could have helped be, given me clues—but you lied to me! You fucking piece of shit!’

The man waited until he knew Loruge had seen all of the message before he smacked himself in the chest, angry. ‘You lied to me!’ his body was saying. 

All those years, Loruge had not only given, but also had stolen his chance at happiness. His chance at a normal life. And now, as he chose to walk his path of vengeance, he still had never told him the truth. Stupid! He was so stupid for be surprised- or enraged! Of course he knew! Loruge had been and always would be a venomous sneak, writhing his way around the weak.

The man paced hobbled on his knee, balancing himself as he accused with angry gestures, frustrated with his inability to speak, angrily gesturing back to the note book Loruge held in his hand. 

The doctor turned the next page.  
“You will tell me all you know.” was all it said.  
Looking in the the brutal man’s hideous face he saw that he was deadly serious in his threat, and his urgency.

“Let’s talk inside,” Loruge offered softly, gesturing into his home. He could not look at the brutal man in the face. “You cant fight on that leg anyway. Not without my help.” The joint was shattered- the doctor could tell by the way it dragged and bent at a sick angle. He knew it would be a miracle if the man could ever fight again.

The scarred man knew there was truth in the doctor’s words and after a death glare, he followed the doctor once again inside, in his head despising his need once again for this man’s help.

It was now nighttime, and Loruge pulled out a mat and unfurled it, gesturing for the injured man to lie on it.

“I have been thinking,” he said, facing the scarred man’s death stare as he lay on his back. His eyes warning the doctor with every fiber of his being not to get any closer. “about how much I wronged you...” he quietly choked out.”

“I am sorry.” he looked downward, his confession leaving him bare- the brutal man’s face went from one of anger to something more tender and unguarded for just a moment, before that implacable fire once again burned inside him.

He looked away to the center of the room, and said nothing.

It was then that the boy entered, coming though the back cloth. He had filled out, the man noticed. No longer did he look like a gaunt skeleton, but like the man he was becoming. He looked at his master with his large brown eyes, and there was something in them that had never been directed at Maggot before.

***

The boy was staring up at the ceiling, listening to Loruge breathe softly next to him. The moonlight drifted in from the windows, illuminating the room in faint shapes. And the activity from earlier that evening died down into tense calmness.

The doctor had healed the brutal man, the energy it took to start the healing of his shattered joint had taxed them both. The brutal man quickly fell into an exhausted sleep. No normal man could have made the journey in his condition, but he had. It was a tremendous feat of will power and intensity, but even those gifted with the connection of being still needed to sleep.

The doctor and Worm ate in silence, but the boy could not stopping looking at the man. He had never seen his unconscious face before, the horror of his torture laid bare, free for anyone to look on. It was a stark contrast when viewed with his expression, which was peaceful and serene.

“Believe it or not, that is how he used to look all the time.” Loruge said, loud enough for the boy to hear as he made his way to the back room. His eyes had shadows under neath them and his lids drooped with exhaustion. All the doctor could think of was sleep.

Worm remained in the main room, intending to keep vigile for his master, but after dozing in his cloth cushion until the early morning, he resolved that he would be of no use to any one if he was exhausted the next day. Moving to his private mat, he tried to find that drowsiness that had driven him to bed in the first place. Instead he simply lay wide awake- with only the sounds of the sleepy town to keep him company.

It felt like hours, but it might as well have been minute for all that Worm felt the passage of time. All he knew was that it was still dark. The light of the sun had not yet risen into the sky when he first heard the clumsy foot falls enter the back room.

It was his master, risen from his temporary coma, entering the doorway of the wash room. He reached about clumsily in the dark, with only a dim candle to light his way. The light source shook as he favored his knee. It would take time for his injury to heal– even Loruge’s power needed time mend broken bones. The warm glow of the brutal man’s candle filled Worm’s peripheral vision and he stared silently at the ceiling, not making a move. 

***

The bathing room was nothing more that a room separated off by a wall. The floors were made of smooth stone, and there was a basin in the corner that was filled by Worm everyday. The water clear and tranquil. Next to it was a bucket and scrub brush, soap too, thick and creamy. 

Maggot stood in the entry way of the bathroom calculating how he was going to best move his injured for to the stool in the corner. Feeling his way against the wall, he made his way to a stool sitting in the corner. 

It was a relief to finally sit down. 

He never felt the need to bathe, but he knew that the opportunity came few enough times for a nomad like himself. He had to take the chance when it was offered.

Hunched on the stool, his injured leg propped forward, he began to undress. Unfurling his feet wraps, and coiling the cloth to the side he then shrugged out of his leather vest. The motion made him realize how much his body ached. 

His knee, yes, but all of his muscles and joints sang with the pains of getting older. He was aware that his body was breaking down, that soon he would not be able to exact revenge. He physically would not be able to handle it. This recent battle was a wake up call, he had barely escaped with his life, but now he was closer than ever. Now that he knew that snake Loruge had information to give him, he would not rest until he wrung every last drop from his slimy body. Finally he could taste vengeance in his hollow mouth.

He tucked his thumbs into his harem pants and shrugged out of them as best he could with out standing up, laying them down next to his belt. He was now naked, except for the thin strip of cloth that covered what used to be his nose. He then waited a moment, just like he always didm before removing it. Reaching around his dark hair, tied in a tight pony tail, the long black lengths were grimy and shining with grease. 

Grabbling both ends of the tattered cloth that split his features, he untied the stained and dirty fabric that faithfully served it’s purpose of protecting the gaping hole in the middle of his face. Now, released from it’s duties, the grotesque fleshy hole where his nose should have been was free to breathe.

It was ragged on the sides with the crudeness that it had been done with. He had been held down, struggling, fighting with everything that he could muster but it had all been in vain. His small arms and legs had been strapped down, and Master had leaned over him with that haunting grin and that dull blade.

His entire face, when seen together, was a barely human. Deep chasms and cuts- all done with crude tools, and the skin buckled and pinched in strange ways. The only cuts done neatly were the three sharp lines on his lower cheek- his first cuts, were perfect in their geometry. 

His body, like wise, was pattern of various weapon marks and carvings- from the hooked cat of nine tails, to the perfect circular burns of an iron, to words, carved wide and thick. They were as easy to read as ink on paper. "WHORE" the first one said, sprawled along his entire upper back, curving around his shoulders. "SLUT" was carved into his ass cheeks- so deep that large deposits of fat had been left on the carving table when they had lifted his unconscious body off of it.

"CUM HERE" was wrapped across his chest- although no other man had followed the directions except the one who had carved them. Various other obscenities were scrawled on his inner thighs, which called attention to his dick, which was an average sized member, but not even that organ had remained untouched. The underside was was split down the middle, exposing the sensitive inner flesh. On the opposite side were deep raised welts, making ridges on his penis. His body was magnificent in it’s form, masculine in it’s rich hair and broad shoulders, but a horror on the surface. If he was a normal man, he would have been attractive- but he was really just Maggot. 

The man drug the stool to the wash basin, ready for the hour ordeal of cleaning himself, when he heard a sound behind him. Before he even turned around, he knew who it was. Something sick inside him jolted. It was his little Worm. 

Worm had watched him- at the basin, taking in the ruin of this back, and the nudity of his body. He had seen naked men before- so many that nudity had long ago ceased to phase him at all— but nothing was like seeing his master. His body told the story of what had been waiting for Worm if Maggot had not purchased him that night. He read the words now- and he was filled with a feeling that turned his stomach. He should not be here, he should not be looking. This was private. 

Maggot turned, his face a horror to behold. The gaping hole in his face pulsing slightly with his breathing, his broad shoulders shifting. 

Worm was frozen. Not with fear, but by the man’s eyes, and what he saw there. 

Maggot shakily stood, still filthy. Blood splattered where his skin had been exposed, the dark liquid matted in his chest hair. He was approaching, his foot steps once soft and confident were now now painful to watch. He supported himself with a strong arm against the wall, his perfect muscles flexing. 

They were so close now, less than an arm’s length away- Maggot’s nakedness engraining itself on the boy as his brown eyes took in all of his master in a new way. A way he was not sure he was ready to experience.

He had just wanted to call him by his name, wanted to rekindle that connection that they had briefly shared. The connection that he had never felt before. Not with anyone else. Not even close.

Instead the man reached out a heavy hand, and laid it gently on Worm’s neck- so softly that it was unsettling. His free hand stayed their for just a moment, before it then traveled up to worm’s face. The gesture was so soft, Worm let himself feel it, let himself close his eyes and lean into that impossibly large hand. 

Slowly he opened his eyes to look at the horror of the man before him, but what he saw in those amazing steel eyes made him forget any reservations that he once had. The hulking man was usually terrifying, but all that had now left. His face was calm as he met those large brown orbs.

Between them, there was no need for words. Worm knew exactly what he saw there.

It was shame. Shame at his body, shame for what he was. Never before had the man been hit with the realization that he had lost so much of what he once was. Inside his chest was a stirring, and it was painful to bare. It was something that he had tried to bury with murder and death. Something he had tried to bury by trying to hurt the boy who now stood before him the same way that he had been hurt. The boy who now met his gaze no longer with horror, but understanding. With empathy, with same emotion that had been burning his his large brown eyes before. It was love.

It was that love that upset the scarred man, and before he knew what he was doing he had placed his free hand on the boy’s chest, and shoved him as far away from his person as possible.

There was danger here, in these feelings, in these emotions. The man tried to quell the feeling in his gut that screamed for him to run away, but instead he turned back to the wash basin. In his condition he tried to sit down, but he toppled on the stool and landed on the floor. Sitting in stunned silence, trying to quell the shaking of his heart, he did not realize that he was crying.

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Five  
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	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation is held, and a goal is surmised.

  
\----------------------------------------  
Part Six  
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The man hated himself, he brooded. Even more than before if that was possible. He lay on the straw mat, with his arm draped over his forehead. The day was growing hotter, and the boy and Loruge had left a few hours ago. After mixing their elixirs in silence, they dawned their packs and left. Maggot could still feel that last lingering glance Worm threw over his shoulder, but at the time he had ignored it.

Even compared to the the heat of battle, he felt as if he was in more danger here. Last night had left him rattled, and he had struggled to once again throw those walls back up around his heart. They always seemed to crumble when the boy was around. 

He saw himself in those brown eyes of his—the self that he had tried so hard to bury, but it kept coming back. It was like a sickness laced with dread.

He clenched his jaw and threw off the thin blanket that was covering his body. All of this inactivity, it drove him insane. There was too much time to think, so much time to reflect. It drove him insane. He needed to be doing something.

He breathed slowly, trying to clear his mind, trying to become one with being, like had done effortlessly so many times before. It was usually so easy to flow with the steady drip of time, but even that was becoming intangible. He just kept being dragged back to reality- back into uncomfortable situations.

He lifted his leg and flexed it, the bones had all been put back in place by Loruge, skillfully knitted but still delicate. He could place weight on it, but the stitch marks where the bone had been mended were still weak, and pain still reverberated through his leg.

He bent it as far as he could forward, and then brought it back to his thigh as tightly as he could. It would take time and repetition of this movement for him strengthen the vital limb so he would be able to fight again. 

Always in the forefront in his mind, the constant struggle of his existence was the promise of battle. And when he thought about the battle, he could not help but think about the boy. The close proximity of Worm was only increasingly getting in the way, and he could only keep asking himself, what did he provide? 

Nothing. The only thing he contributed was the constant drain on his already waining vat of self control.

Gritting though the pain of flexing, he then sat up and looked at the breakfast that had been left for him. When the bowls had been placed at his side, he had feigned sleep. Maggot wanted to forget about all of these people closing in around him, and not deal with these feelings arising inside his chest.

It was always the cowards way out that appealed to him, he reflected. Now looking at the tossed greens in the large wooden bowl and the pita that lay beside it, he saw there was a freshly mixed dressing in a small cup for him to pour over his food. Kept separate for when he was awake so as not to make his greens soggy, it was a courtesy that he was not worthy of.  
He wanted to fling it aside, but his stomach growled and his common sense prevailed.  
Food was still necessary.

He picked up the fork but did not bother with the dressing. That must have been his Worm putting it out for him. Loruge knew that it was pointless. Placing the foliage into his mouth he made sure to nestle the food directly between his molars. Eating was always an ordeal.

He remembered feeling the tongs on his tongue, having the organ pulled out until it was painful, but at the time nerves were merely singing along with the rest of his damaged body. It made such a symphony of sound in his physical form, that it was hard for him to discern which intsrument was which.

The blade had found its way under his mouth organ. He could feel the chill of the blade and knew that it was the dull one that had made it’s way all across his body. He squirmed and wanted to scream, but his tongue would not move.

Master was chuckling above him, saying some nonsensical verbiage that was lost amongst the pain hammering in his head. It was then that the knife cut. It made it’s way, carving the profusely bleeding organ away from his inner jaw, away from his throat.

The blood had been everywhere, spilling into his mouth so quickly that he thought he would drown. It was then that the would had been burned closed. That searing heat had been the worst, but then again that was just the beganing.

Maggot clenched his fist while tilting his head to the side, occasionally using a large finger to position the food against his teeth. The pain that had been so vivid so long ago, was now just a memory. One in a series of injustices that added wood to the fire of his vengeance.

Loruge. If there was one person that he would like to strangle with slow intimacy it was him. He wanted to see those eyes bulge in his sockets. He wanted the doctor to know just how much an apology would never be enough. 

Unfortunately it was his cruel fate to have his twisted sense of honor, an sense of honor that would not let him end the doctor’s life. He was always forced to let the bane of his existence skirt by alive simply because he helped people.

The people of this town thought he was wonderful, and while it was true that the snake would not turn away even the poorest of clients, Maggot knew that they did indeed have something to give. They fueled his sense of selflessness and the more he thought he was giving, the more he took. 

Now, he dared to tell him that he was sorry. Sorry? What a fucking joke. Like a mere word would cover up all he had done.  
Still, he was glad for his life if only to use him for his own devices.  
In fact he was thinking about using them again.  
Surely a simple threat would keep the doctors hands off of the young boy if he chose to leave him behind- and surely being here was better than a death sentence with him. Maybe the doctor could prove his remorse by giving the boy a better life—  
But if this was the right choice, why did his heart feel so heavy?

He continued to funnel the greens to his molars, glad that no one was witness to his pathetic struggle. He then dunked the bread in the the water, soaking it until it was moist. Swallowing the fibers down his throat until he slowly began to feel full. 

When Loruge and the boy returned, he would have no choice but to confront all of these things things troubling him. He knew it would have been so much easier if he just would have taken the boy- his body and soul. Even in his mind, though, he found that he could not even fantasise about going through with it.

***

After administering a healing and providing careful instruction on how to prevent heat stroke, Worm found himself standing outside with Loruge. It was late afternoon, and exhaustion was painted on Loruge’s face. Whether it was from the healing or the high emotions that the man brought with him, the boy did not know. 

They stood off to the side, the sand hitting their cheeks, blowing and mixing with the wind. He looked at his teacher, and they remained together in comfortable silence. The doctor was going to say something, but the careful way that he approached the topic ensured that he wanted to use the right words. 

This was most likely one of the last times that Worm would accompany him on his runs, and although the boy felt a tinge of sadness, he recognized loneliness when he saw it. 

Loruge had his brow furrowed, and as the days went by he had only become more worried. This was not something that escaped Worm’s notice, he simply knew that it was none of his business. If something concerned him, Loruge was always one to speak up. and it seemed now was the time he was to be included.

“...Worm,” he began, not looking the boy in the face, “no matter what you hear tonight, will you promise not to think any differently of me?” it was an honest question, one that Worm would respect with a honest answer.

“Why does it matter what I think?” Worm replied. His opinion was generally of that nature. whether he thought ill or well of the doctor— it made no real difference.

Loruge made a pained look, “because it matters to me.” He pleaded, but he knew he had to add context by the look of confusion on the boy’s face.

“Not long ago, I did something horrible. Something that you reminded me of... things... might get ugly between he and I, but I just want to know that you and I are okay. I respect you, you are bright and never complain. you are dedicated to work and our living arrangements have worked out well... I just have to know that what I did to him... that it does not affect you and I.”

Worm was silent at this. Loruge and he shared eye contact, and he let the cogs in his head turn in their own time as he processed this new information. He had never been asked... things like this before, and he was confused on how to react.

“Between us...” Worm began, “we are teacher and student. I thank you for all that you have taught me. You have been patient and understanding and will always have my respect for that.” Worm bowed, and Loruge looked away. 

The boy could not tell if the doctor felt vindicated, but there was a small smile at on the edges of his mouth. Worm did not know what skeletons would be drug out of the closet when the night came, but he knew that it now did indeed concern him.

Loruge nodded and reconfigured his pack across his shoulder, before dismissing worm in a quiet voice. There were still things to be done back at the hovel, and the boy nodded. He turned and began to walk to the doctor’s home, looking at his wrapped feet the entire way- watching the uneven pavement stones and kicking through the small sand piles when he came to them. His mind then began to wander. 

Loruge may have taught him, but Maggot saved him. No one knew his mind like he could, they had both shared lives, it seemed. The brutal man’s appearance was a constant reminder of what Worm had been saved from. 

Remembering the look of fear in the scared man’s eyes, worm wondered if he could now be the one to return the favor. to help give the brutal man back what he had been deprived of. he remembered the feeling of that scared hand against his face, and closed his eyes. He wished it could be like that all the time.

Coming to the door, he paused and swallowed before pushing the cloth aside. The inside was considerably more dim, and he chanced a look at his master before setting his tools and pack in their proper place. The brutal man was facing the wall, once again flexing his leg, trying everything in his power to speed up his recovery. trying like hell to get out of there quicker. 

The dishes that he had laid beside the man earlier this morning were now empty, and the glass of water drained. Worm grabbed the covered glass pitcher from the counter and came to refill it. He saw that the man was awake, but he ignored the boy as he refilled his water.  
Worm in turn also adverted his eyes and took away the used dishes.  
He was used to being kept at arms length, but with the man, it bothered him. Neither one of them could deny the connection that sparked like electricity when they were alone and near, but the man seemed to want to ignore it. 

Worm knew that being weak was something that neither one of them could have afforded in their old lives, and that trusting never came easily. When the man wanted to be that close to him again, it would happen, and the boy just had to have faith in that.

***

The three of them sat around the table, and they were all silent. a soft and rare rain had begun to fall in the small town, bowls and vases with wide brims were left outside to collect the rain water, so even the gentle sprinkle had a faint sound.

Candles had been lit and the brutal man hunched over the small wooden table, his head in his hand, fist clenched in frustration.

Loruge sat stoically, not looking at either one of them in the eye. His voice was timid, but not shy as he had begun the talk that he was dreading.

The boy sat to the side, trying to be as nondescript as possible, wanting to hear the details, namely because he knew these affairs were slowly dragging his person deeper and deeper into them. He said nothing and looked at no one. There was simply nothing for him to say.

Loruge had taken a deep breath, and begun to speak, and what he said was not to the man’s liking. “...you and I both know that there is simply no way to survive a direct assault.” he stated.

“the amount of skilled warriors they have, they would quickly over come you- there is no point.” Maggot slammed his fist on the table, shaking the wood down to it’s legs.  
He simply did not care. he would find a way.

“There is no possible way.” Loruge reiterated. He knew what the brutal man was thinking, and he quickly put a stop to it. Maggot turned on him, the ferocity in his face had not been quelled at all by Loruge’s testimony- it had just been fueled by it.

‘You will tell me,’ was the look in his eyes. the doctor did not need the notepad to tell him that this was a threat. Before swallowing yet again, he folded his hands under the table and acquieced to the killer’s demands.

“There is one possible way...” he began, feeling the information on his tongue fighting with his psyche not to utter it. It was not something secret, but it was something that no one in The Compound intentionally talked about. He himself had never told another soul this story, but he found it rolling off of his tongue. Was he divulging this for his own selfish salvation, or out of genuine desire to make up for what he had done?

Either way, it was this story that he now told Maggot, who looked at him intently, and Worm, whose ears seemed to perk ever so slightly.

“This was back.. way back, back when I had first made that fateful connection with being. Back when they had discovered that I had the rare gift of healing....

It was a year after I had been training... and by I mean training I mean continually being brought wounded people, most one the verge of death. Some of them were the boys from below, most of which there was few hope of saving. This one time though, a fellow warrior was brought to me. He was someone who I recognized from my class, from the young men I had grown up with, trained with, fought with for the few positions among the upper class.

He had been wounded with sharp weapons, and the wounds had festered on the journey back. Oozing and dripping, i knew my capabilities were limited, but still I tried to save him. Not out of empathy, but for the challenge.

Try as I might, though, i could not stop spreading of the infection. I was prepared to try for hours, but found there was no need. It was then that he grabbed my shoulder.  
It startled me and so I ended up jerking out of his grasp. Looking down, I realized that he had wanted only to garner my full attention as he began to choke out a story.

He had been sent on a recon mission, to the edge of the desert, and when he arrived, he had come to a ravine, descending deep into the earth. It’s edges were made of quick sand, and it’s edges poured over the sides with such force, that it took who ever was standing in it’s range into the earth with it. 

He and his companions resolved to use a method in which two heavy rocks are found and brought to the desired crossing. They then began to build a catapult, but while they were constructing, movements were observed on the other side. Although it was only in their peripheral vision and despite the fact that there was always at least one look out, they could never pinpoint the activity. It was thus that they rocketed one of the giant rocks over the edge, and after it had settled, one of the scorpions threw a grappling hook around it, and they made their way carefully across.

After landing to the other side, they did not even have time to grab their bearings. Instead they were attacked by people who wore the sand itself. He and his two friends only lived because they were allowed to escape. He said the calls of the sand people rang in their ears for miles.

Over the years, more and more warriors were sent, and more and more came back, wounded and silent. they barely talked about it.

Even when I left, the men were still coming in. the last man who died at my feet told me had seen their faces. they were made of stone, he said. they looked like people, but their skin took no damage. I had thought that these were mere delusions that he had seen, but that was when I found the piece of stone, buried deep in his skin.  
‘i got one of those bastards’- he laughed, before drifting off into his final sleep.”  
Loruge finished and he paused and let his tale sink in. “These people obviously are organized and have power. Maybe they would accept a common enemy. your body is all the proof you need.” he said to Maggot. The brutal man was silent.

“If you survived them, told them your story and showed them your strength, perhaps they would decide that The Compound is a foe finally worthing of facing. If not- then you tried.”  
Maggot looked at him, he brow fierce.  
“Honestly,” Loruge said, reading the man’s expression. “you know everything else about the place that I do. One way, in or out in every building. Storming the place would be a battle up hill. They were very meticulous in its construction.”

Worm looked at Loruge, his eyes flashing. “What keeps them from killing us?” He asked, and the room became a little hotter. “the sand people... I mean.”

Maggot glanced at the boy and Loruge knew that there was not a question in the boy’s mind regarding where he was going, or who he was going with.

Loruge sighed but was not surprised. Maggot on the other had seemed uncomfortable underneath his scowl. Had the scared man really thought about leaving the boy here? Knowing Worm, the young man would not have any of that. To him there was only one place that he belonged, and that was right next to his master.

“I have a solution...” Loruge began. “ever since hearing this account, it has become a... hobby... of mine to mimic the effects. It does not work as well, and is only very temporary... but it should buy you some time.”

He stood up and looked at all of his shelves, glancing at all of the bottles until he came to a few shoved in the back. There was only a handful, and each only held barely enough for a swallow, but he reached his delicate hand back and picked them up gently. Bringing them back to the table, Maggot eyed them suspiciously, while Worm gazed at the syrup with inquisitive eyes. “What is in it?” he asked- his voice soft.

“I cant tell you that... these are very hard to mix- and this was the only batch that I ever got right. Even I could not replicate it....” he sounded disappointed. “That is always why you should—“

“— write down what you are mixing.” Worm finished. He rolled the vial in between his fingers, awe in his large brown eyes while Maggot said nothing. His face was skeptical, but Loruge tried to persuade him.

“I know I have done really shitty things...” Loruge confessed while Maggot snorted out a laugh. “But please, take these. They are the only thing that I can give you to try to make up for what I have done.”

There was no dark humor in maggot’s eyes now. Only cold, hard resignation.  
He nodded his head in grudging acceptance, but Loruge knew that there was no forgiveness in the exchanging of the potion, and he did not blame him.

***

Later that night, after Loruge had fallen into a restless sleep, the boy merely pretended to drift off to sleep. He waited until he could once again hear the doctors soft snores before he softly padded out into the other room.

His master was still awake, just like he knew he would be. Flexing his leg, ushering on it’s healing, his face was focused. Worm stood there, with the cloth divider falling behind him, and he waited to be acknowledged.

Maggot took his time, and when he was finished working the healing joint, he then looked at Worm. His face was sour and serious, but Worm was not afraid.

“Master-“ he walked toward him, and gracefully dropped to the floor with a bow, his forehead touching the floor. He then sat up, seeing that the scared man was looking away, but Worm knew he was listening.

“Master, I am coming with you.” Worm said, after taking a deep breath. He had never told anyone what he was going to do before. he had always waited for orders, and the prospect of making his own choices both excited and terrified him.

“Also... I...” he stuttered, loosing his heart but then finding it again. “I read your note. I know your name.”

Maggot looked at him, and Worm looked away.  
There was silence afterwards, but Maggot then took out his notebook, the one stained with blood. He slowly flipped to a fresh page, and wrote in it with his large hand. He then passed the note to the boy.  
‘So call me it.’ it said. ‘I am no one’s master.’  
Worm read this and felt a lump in his throat.  
Before he could think of what else to say, the man wrote something else and once again passed it to him.  
‘If you come with me, you will die.’

Worm then looked at the hulking man, and their eyes met. The boy then knew, by the look in the mute man’s eyes that this was the truth. He could only nod. “I accept that..” Worm said, “...only because it means I would get to die next to you.”

Maggot did not look at him, instead he tore out the piece of paper and crumpled it into his fist, squeezing it with all his might. as his veins pulsed under the bandages he opened his clenched fist, and let the now hard ball of paper fall to the table with a _tick_. 

There was silence between them as the brutal man turned away and faced the wall, clearly done with this conversation. Worm stood up, and he had to stop himself from bowing once again. He was to call him by his name. They were to be almost equals now, and Worm had to remember it. He softly returned to the cloth divider and pushed it open with one arm. 

He paused then, becoming aware of the scrap of paper that he had kept tucked in his loin cloth. By now it was as soft as cotton, and the message had been smeared, but to him, it was more of a memento. a good luck charm to keep him going, a reminder that he was in the right place.

“Good night, Maggot.” He said before disappearing behind the curtain. At the same time, Maggot tried to force plans through his twisted head of how to now get rid of him. These emotions, he knew, were just getting in the way.

***

A week went by before they were finally able to set off, but Loruge had mixed feelings about it. On one side, he was beyond thankful to get rid of the man. The dark cloud of rage that constantly hung over his head was too much to bare when constantly directed at him. He had found that it was better to just stay away. He could not make the other accept his apology, but the doctor found himself not feeling bitter about it. 

Worm on the other hand was a different story. The boy had taken to getting the hulking brute what ever he needed, but had stopped calling him ‘master’.  
Loruge had found this odd, but when the mad did not question it, he let it be. It was not really his business any longer. The boy had chosen the path that doctor had know he would all along. It really was no surprise.  
It was thus that he had mixed emotions about the day they set off.

It was an average morning, and packs had been stuffed and provisions allocated to the appropriate bags. The five tiny vials Loruge had given then had been wrapped and tucked delicately into one of the pouches hanging off Maggot’s belt. The soft fabric that they were wrapped in hopefully would prevent any accidental breakage. 

Their water canteens and supplies were filled, and their spare clothes were cleaned. Keffiyehs wrapped tightly around their heads, the cloth also covering their mouths. Loruge felt the call of the desert but he knew that his place was here. Maggot only shouldered his pack and began to walk away. Worm, on the other hand, paused.

He looked at Loruge and there was still a innocence in him, the doctor observed. Maybe it was for the better that he was to go with the man, he mused. After a moment longer, Worm then moved to Loruge and briefly wrapped his arms around the thin man, holding him tightly for a second before pulling away.

“Thank you... for everything.” Worm bowed once more, and then ran to catch up with the horror he would most likely follow into the gates of hell.  
Loruge then felt a little easier inside, in spite of it all.  
Maybe things did happen for a reason.

He watched them go until he could no longer see them anymore before he entered his home. It was empty again, but inside his chest, it felt a little more filled. Walking into the back room, he rubbed his face...  


Emotions were truly exhausting.

  
\----------------------------------------  
End Part Six  
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	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author rewrites the cave scene because she realizes that it was not how her characters would react at all,
> 
> The man hatches a plot, and the boy feels regret for how things once were.

  
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Part Seven  
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The heat was sweltering. It relentlessly beat down on the top of Worm’s covered head, as he thought that the desert itself was conspiring against them. The cloth wrappings around his body protected his skin from the rays of the treacherous sun, but his keffiyeh was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead while his upper lip also beaded with perspiration. 

As he looked ahead, pushing his body to follow the slow but steady pace the brutal man set for them, he saw waves rising from the sand below. It was true. The heat assaulted them from every direction. 

The dark colors and light texture of fabric facilitated the cool breezes that occasionally came their way, but the terrain was still rough. Especially when neither of them were in peak traveling condition. Maggot leaned forward, the pack was large and cumbersome, adding it’s toll even on his broad shoulders as they continually walked over the rises and falls of numerous dunes. 

Before them, the sand had given way to a large rocky field, the plane jutting and dangerous. They watched their feet carefully and guided where they fell, making sure to avoid sharp edges, knowing that only a strip of leather and cloth wrapping protected their feet from the sharp ground. 

Coming across rocky barriers, loose and dangerous, they hand no choice but to climb over them. Testing their weight on hanging outcrops and gingerly placing their feet where there was an opportunity to rest them, and climbed.

The only communications they made with each other were grunts and gasps from the physical exertion that their bodies continually pushed out. Their chests expanded and retracted and before Worm knew it, his lungs were in so much pain. It seemed like he could not recycle the air quickly enough into in blood stream, and he had to frequently pause to catch his breath.

Worm then knew how much the time with Loruge had made his body weak. Strength was a mixture of body and mind, and he had ignored the need to keep his body strong with training. He was now paying the price. He vowed to himself that he would not be lax in his physical duties again when his shoulders began to scream. 

Maggot’s body was struggling too, Worm would see. He still favored his left leg, and treated it delicately as he pushed his hulking mass up. It was his dedication to his mission that made him push himself. 

Worm knew that the man had a fire in him, a purpose, a reason to keep going, but it was no use if it ended up killing him. 

The day was still broiling, only made worse by the lack of any sort of breeze. After scaling over the largest rocky outcrop they had yet to come across, they paused at the top and took in the great expanse of desert below. Laying before them, a gift from some divine force, was a cave. It’s mouth reached deep into shadows, and its position was perfect. It was concealed by nature itself under a jutting rock face, only viewable when looking at it from the place they now stood.

Worm and Maggot stood there panting, feeling like this day had been their first trek ever. Their bodies screamed, and the sweat on their forehead took this time to fall out beneath their wraps and sting their eyes.

“We should rest...” Worm panted, glancing at his partner. The hulking brute looked even more exhausted from the front. His deformed face glistening underneath the harsh sun, his eyes glazed over.  
“Your leg...” Worm also forced out, “It’s not healed.”  
The truth of his statement was heavy in the air, and after a minute, Maggot nodded his reluctant consent. Worm sighed in relief, and they carefully began to make their way down to the cave.

The sun had moved a few more spans across the sky before they reached the bottom. Walking up to the mouth, Worm saw that it traveled deep into the earth. He could feel the cold air hitting his face and it took his breath away. He had never experienced such a feeling before, and he could barely believe their luck.

Maggot lead the way into the cavern pausing a few paces in, pulling out a small oil lantern from his pack. He took a moment to lengthen the wick and check the oil before he pulled out a small pouch. Inside was a large piece of flint. It took a few quick strikes before the sparks caught the cotton cord, but soon the lamp was giving off a warm glow and he held it before them.

The floor of the cave was smooth with a thick layer of sand, with rocks scattered here and there. Worm gazed around him wide eyed, trying to take in the dim surroundings as they traveled further into the cavern. The boy saw movement out of the corner of his eyes, but he knew it was the small animals that lived here scurrying to find niches and cracks in which to hide their bodies.

About 5 meters in, they finally found a suitable place and made camp. Rolling out their large straw mat and thin but wide bedding, Worm settled himself near by and untied his pack. He rummaged for their supply of dried food, and after a few minutes, he set it on the floor. Their stores were enough to get them by for a while, but there was little variety. Dried fruit and hard bread was about all they had, while most of the weight they carried was from the multiple canteens of water. 

The man had already laid down upon their make shift bed, those fierce eyes of his were already closed and his eyebrows were drawn tightly together. He was definitely in pain, although they both knew he would never admit it. 

The boy nibbled on some dried pita and drank from their water, but his eyes never stopped evaluating the situation. Maggot had tried to make himself comfortable, but he was restless. He kept moving his hulking form from one position to the next. With a deep frown and a sour expression, he let out a deep sigh and wished for exhaustion to carry him to sleep. 

“I have some things I packed that I made....” Worm began, speaking in a reserved tone. It still felt strange to him, saying what he thought out loud. “...for injuries and such... I can apply a balm to you..... If you would like...”

Maggot did nothing to suggest that he heard the offer, let alone accepted it and Worm said nothing further. The now young man finished his small piece of bread and screwed the knob of the canteen shut before placing down. It was then that he looked up. 

He could tell that Maggot was now looking at him, but the fore arm that he draped across his head cast his expression in dark shadow. His eyes were painted dark and his hair was lank inky blackness. He could still see the outline of his chin, and the curve of his large square shoulders, and it was then then that the hulking brute slowly nodded his head.

Worm’s heart skipped a beat. The man was an enigma to him. He kept life at bay with his quest of revenge, but maybe this act of accepting assistance, of admitting that he was in pain, was also him admitting that he had felt what Worm felt too the last time they had shared close proximity.

Reaching into the bag beside him, Worm found the large jar of balm by its cool and smooth surface. He picked it up and carried it with both hands, sitting next to Maggot’s leg but still on the thin cushion. He swallowed and reached out a steady hand wondering why it was that could rub the wounds of perfect strangers without a second thought, but now feelings raced through his head so fast that he could not concentrate on a single one.

He had sometimes felt this before... in The Compound. When men would touch him in a certain way, his body would react like whether he wanted it to or not. Just the memory made him ill, and the feelings of shame surged forward once again. 

He had to breathe—if the man had wanted to claim his body, he would have by now. In fact he almost had... but both times he had stopped. The man knew what it was like to be claimed against your will, to have stranger after stranger painfully thrust themselves into you. He had faith that his master would not do the same.

Master....Maggot had told him not to refer to him as such, but Worm could just not shake it out of his head. How else would you refer to the man who was your everything?

He unwound the layers of filthy wrapping that encased Maggot’s calf, all the while he could feel the brutal man staring at him. But staring with what intent, Worm could not say. His master’s thick arm kept the man’s expressions secret. A small shiver went down his spine as he pushed Maggot’s harem pant above his knee to his mid thigh, and he paused.

In the shifting light, Worm could see more scarred script the edge the cloth, but he could not make it out. The cuts and the various burns and scars circled down to even his toes. The pain must have been unimaginable, Worm thought, as something akin to warm sympathy filled his belly.

He still did not know why his master had come to buy him that night. What could have possessed the man to go back to the place where he had been tortured? What could make someone go back with the intent to do it to someone else? He would be lying if he said he had not begun to occasionally worry about the reasons behind Maggot’s actions, but he had tried to quiet his fears.  
They were one and the same, Worm told himself.

It was this atmosphere that made doubt creep into his mind. The air around them in the cave had become tense and there was electricity sparking all around them.

Worm knew this feeling, and knew where it radiated from. Coming in steady pools, infecting is skin and senses, the aura was surging forward from the man before him.

Worm tried his best to ignore it as he dipped his fingers into the round container of cream. Placing his finger tips on his the man’s inflamed knee, he felt the smooth skin in between the scars. 

As he rubbed the large joint firmly, he concentrated on each individual bone, all the while listening to breathing of his patient. The steady tempo of his inhales and exhales reminded Worm of the way his body had made men sigh. The boy fought off the dark thoughts now invading his mind, questions begging to be acknowledged.  
Would it be the same with this man?  
Would it all be the same with with Maggot?

The thought of it scared him, but it did not surprise him. Part of him expected it. After a being forced to have sex with anyone who had coin for his entire life, he secretly doubted that he would ever be good for anything else. He had even gone on a hunger strike in his younger years, he was so depressed, but the guards quickly beat it out of him. Not because they valued his life, but for the fun of it. 

But now that he knew that life could be something different, something better, he was terrified of having anything about it change. His feelings for the brutal man we complicated, to say the least, he just knew that he wanted to be near him. 

He knew what it was like to feel completely desolate, void of hope or feeling. Both of them had experienced it, although not together but it still hung over their lives like a dark shroud. He felt a kindred spirit, in this fighting machine, in the man who had saved him. The path that he had chosen had grown to be heavy, and it had only pushed him farther into his own isolation. 

Worm wanted to reach out to him, to say something that he knew would mean something. But after a life of not voicing anything, how was he to know what to say? 

It turned out that he did not have to say anything. The dark tension around the boy finally burst as he looked up from Maggot’s inflamed knee and realized that he was now looking into his face. The brutal man had a dark look in his eyes and his eyebrows were heavily drawn. 

Worm felt his breath hitch as he felt the man draw a heavy hand around his head and drew him closer. Worm felt their bodies clash together and he could feel the man’s need clashing with his own.

When had that happened? His mind shook with the realization that his body had reacted that way of it’s own volition, and was even more shocked when he could feel the man’s lips pressed against his own.

His mind became completely void. All he could feel were those scared lips on his own chapped skin. They were so close together, he could feel Maggot’s heat radiating against him in the cool cave.

Those lips were dry and cracked as they were pushed together firmly but softly. Time seemed to stand still for the boy, and nothing he had previously experienced could compare. He had been kissed before, but he had always wanted to drink boiling water afterward. He thought that only by burning the offending skin off of his person could he be free of the horrible memory.

That is why is struck him so strongly that now he did not want this brief kiss to end. All of the dread had left his body completely. This was a kiss of passion, of partnership, of belonging.

Maggot pulled apart from him, need taking over his features. If Worm had not known him, he would have been scared. He looked like a monster, ready to devour anything that lay in his path.

There was nothing but air between them, air and breath and lust.  
“Why did you do that?” Worm fearfully blurted, suddenly feeling guilty at the way the kiss just made him feel, confused about they way his body was reacting and the desire to want it more.

Maggot just looked at him. His face was hard to read but nowhere on it appeared the emotion of regret. The nature of a warrior was to react in the moment and that was what he had done. 

The brutal man got up and looked away, pushing the boy away from him, leaving the him to sit on their pathetic makeshift bed. Worm was left looking after him as the hulking man headed toward the dim red light that was the mouth of the cave.

“Maggot!” Worm called out after him, but the cave was the only one that answered him back, calling back in his own voice. He had not realized how much fear had been laced in that one word.

***

There was no going back.

It had taken a decade of bodies, of blood, of hardening himself to the world but all of that had failed. It had all been in vain. Worm with his now more angular jaw, and less round cheeks. With those brown eyes so dark they were almost black.

He had single handedly ripped down those barriers and made Maggot realize that he had never really changed. He was just denying who he was. 

He was a fool to accept help when he could have just done the job himself, and now he had opened a can of worms that would not be shut again. 

Looking at Worm as he had touched him, those smooth movements over his skin, how long had it been since another human being had touched him like that? how long had it been since he had been treated like someone worth while?

He had acted without thinking, just knowing that his closeness without climax was torture. How could he ever sleep next to the boy again?

He drew his hand back and punched rock that made up the outside of the cave.  
The sun was going down, and painted the sky red, only a slight shade lighter than the blood that now smeared the rock in front of him.  
He let out a hard laugh.  
He was so pathetic. 

Those innocent touches left his brain numb, and his body excited. Was he truly so devoid of human contact that such a simple act could make him dizzy with lust?

And Worm.... while it was true that he was in his change, he was still just a boy. So why was his stomach tight and his dick rock hard? When their lips had met, he wanted nothing more than to lay claim to his small, delicate body.

Maggot continued to walk away from the cave into the basin that held their surroundings. He knew that if he went back at this moment, that he would not be able to control himself. 

Finding a place behind a large rock, he fell to the sand and stretched out his legs.  
He felt disgusting, pushing down his thick pants to expose his hard member. His mind knew how depraved he was. How damaged. After all, only a truly sick individual would jack-off to a fourteen year old kid.

But here he was. No better than Loruge, no better than that sick fuck who he would never forgive. He was now turning into him.

He cupped his member lightly and imagined Worm beneath him. Those large brown eyes gazing up at him in between dark eyelashes. In his mind’s eye he pulled apart those honey colored legs and he wished he could lick them. He wished he could savor the taste and tried to imagine what the flavor would be like- but his mind fell short. It had been so long since he had tasted anything, and scum like himself were undeserving.

He tried to think of how Worm’s skin would feel, his finger tips holding on to his ruined shoulders as he entered him. He imagined the boy’s hole, warm and welcoming, latching onto his member, dragging it deeper the boy’s form. 

He tried to imagine the gasps that would surround them. He wanted the boy to call out his name with passion. He wanted him to want it. It was then that his shuddered through a violent release and felt his warm seed fall over his dirty, bandaged hands.

He really was a fool, if he thought anyone could ever want a twisted fuck like him.  
Leaning against the rock at his back, he let the filth of his actions wash over him. 

The veil of restraint that had separated him and the boy was disappearing, and it terrified him. Was he going to turn into Loruge? taking what was not his? Maggot covered his face with his large soiled hands, wanting anything but that. He could not bare turning into that which he hated the most.

On the other hand, he could not longer throw up barriers around his vulnerable self. It was a fruitless effort, and it just left him feeling more drained.

The only thing he had ever had was revenge, and now these feelings and emotions jeopardized it. He had to get rid of the boy— sooner rather than later.

***

It took them two months to reach the chasm. It was wider in person than Worm imagined, and neither one of them could get close enough to the edge to see how deep the gash really went into the depths of the earth.

Just a few feet away from the edge sand was poured in with such force, that either one of them would have been swept along for the ride—never to be seen again.

Maggot stood like a pillar, the wind that had picked up in the mid afternoon was whipping his keffiyeh around his face. His expression one of contemplation. He was formulating a plan in that head of his. Even with his face mostly covered by cloth, Worm felt his vibrations so far away.

The kiss had changed their dynamic completely.

They no longer shared the small rolled out mat in the confines of their tent. Instead, the man would build a small fire, and sleep next to it, letting the warmth from the blaze warm his damaged skin.

At first Worm was grateful, but as this new situation proved to be one that would last, the boy found himself missing the way things used to be.

He missed smelling the man’s strong must in the dark of night. He missed feeling safe, knowing that he was right beside him. But even if they once again share the same bed, Worm knew that things would never be the same. 

The kiss had been everything and nothing all at the same time. It had left his young mind confused and troubled, not knowing how to take the situation. He wanted nothing more than to help the tortured soul that now stood next to him at the edge of the desert.

But at what price? Would he be prepared to give to him the most damaged part of himself? The part which was most vulnerable?

Worm knew that his own body had betrayed him as he was drug close, but the more troubling question was why it had reacted that way. 

The thought that he had secretly enjoyed being fucked all those years was enough to make him vomit his meager breakfast, and so he pushed the thought down along with the bile rising in his throat.  
There were more pressing situations to attend to before them.

Worm shrugged off his pack and the heavy bag fell with a dull thud. To his right, the brutal man looked forward at their obstacle with unchecked ferocity. He had something in mind, something that he was not privy to sharing.

Maggot dropped his pack to the side, the tent poles rattling together along with the few dishes that they shared. The boy could not help but wonder if they would ever share anything again. Would they just go on like this, physically next to each other, but mentally so far away?

The choked back an uneasy feeling and faced forward. His master would need him, he had to be strong and stand by his side, no matter what the situation between them was. He had to be his voice, his conscious and his anchor.

Maggot bent and scooped up a large handful of sand and enclosed it in those large hands of his. There, underneath the hot sun, he pushed his palms together. After much pressure, he released his grip and there, in his hands, was a rock.

Worm knew that the man was strong. so much so that it was unnatural, but the pressure it took to compress sand into stone was immense, and he found himself being deeply impressed. So this was the way that he planned to use the same technique that was explained by Loruge, the boy thought. 

Taking the stone, Maggot placed it against another hand full of sand and squeezed once more. This time, he slightly grunted, but when his hands came apart, there was a larger stone in place.

The hulking man repeated the practice, only stopping to take a break when the first boulder was as high as his mid thigh. The weight of the compressed rock was now heavy enough to displace all the other grains around it. The day was almost done now, and aside from watching his master, Worm had boiled oasis water clean for them to drink and now took to watching the other side of the quicksand chasm for activity,

According to Loruge’s tale, there should have been activity along the other side, but thus far he had seen nothing. The sun was setting and the first stone was now to his master’s hip. Every time he added to the rock, he would exhale and push. The focused breathing helped him focus his body toward on one purpose, so every muscle was working in tandem toward one goal.

They continued like this through the night, until by morning there were two large rocks of equal size, ready be their only insurance while they risked life and limb to teether across that bottomless fissure.

Worm swallowed hard and Maggot flexed his chest. He seemed unstoppable now that he was so close. Focusing his energy had left him strong and connected, and this ordeal was one that he wanted to be done with sooner than later. Although there had been no activity on the other side, there was no telling if their plan would incite curiosity.

He leaned over and wrapped his arms around the rock, and with a steady exhale, he lifted it up, using his powerful thighs and focused concentration. It was then that he began to spin and gain momentum, and after a few turns, he hurled the boulder in a arc over the earth’s formidable construction with an exhale like a gust of wind.

Both of them watched with bated breathe, waiting for the rock to plummet into the darkness, but instead, it landed with a great cloud of sand on the other side. Relief rushed over them at the success of their endeavor, but that was quickly replaced with dread. Now was the dangerous part. Now was the crossing. 

Maggot leaned over his pack and brought out a long, thick rope that was rough to the touch. The idea was to use a grappling hook to wrap around the boulder he had just thrown to the other side, but he would have to hit it just right.

Worm watched as Maggot swung the tool in around in a circle while angling his body, twisting it until it resembled a crescent moon. He felt out the cord and took his time angling his throw before releasing tool. It flew with grace, but only vainly bounced off the rock on the other side. 

Maggot only grunted, and drug the hook back over, while Worm took the chance to once again survey the side opposite of them. Apart from the sand continually cascading downward, there was not hint of motion, not even a speck. It struck the boy as curious indeed, but he was not going to complain if they did not have to deal with the sand people immediately crossing.

There was another dull ring as the grappling hook made it’s second attempt at the rock, but it failed again miserably, this time striking the right of it’s surface.

The brutal man let out what might have been a swear word and while it was not formed right, it clearly was intended the same.

Worm went back to his pack and pulled a freshly filled canteen. The day was hot, and the lukewarm water splashed against the inside of his mouth as he closed his eyes to savor the refreshing wetness. It was half way through his drink that he heard a cry of victory.

Looking at the rock, the hook was wrapped around it and was entwined with itself on the other side, making a linking circle. The brutal man grabbed the rope and pulled, testing that the fixture was snug.

He took the other end of the rope and wrapped it tightly around the rock on their side, and with a look at Worm, they both nodded.

Maggot shrugged back into his pack. The extra weight would be dangerous, but they needed their supplies to survive. If they left them they might as well have fallen into the dark hole below for how rapidly their deaths would follow. 

The large man approached the rope, and straddled it. Placing his bandaged hands on the woven cord, he looked at Worm once more, his expression solemn and serious. It was evident to both of them that this could be the end, but they had no other choice. Either they pleaded with the sand warriors for their assistance, or their perished in the assault of that large, bloody building. 

Maggot leaned over and let his chest hug the rope and after testing his weight. Letting his body naturally balance, he ended up with his chest facing the sky, and his powerful legs hooked for support. It was then that he began to inch his way across. The going was slow and excruciating to watch and Worm did not realize that he was holding his breathe until had to force himself to breathe.

Maggot’s muscles tensed as he pulled himself along and once he was over open air, the wind started to push him. Still he pulled his body along, his legs holding most of his weight while his arms continually contracted and expanded. Finally, it was with a slow and steady pace that he finally he made it to the other side.

It was now Worm’s turn to follow him, and he could not seem to shake a horrible feeling that had taken root in his stomach.

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Seven  
\----------------------------------------


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the man falls in over his head,  
> and a new mystery arises.

  
\----------------------------------------  
Part Eight  
\----------------------------------------  


Worm could feel the rope underneath his hands, taught with tension. The fibers that were woven into this literal life line were scratchy and rough as he clenched it tightly and swallowed. 

The pack was heavy on his back, not as heavy as Maggot’s, but still a lot for his size. He felt it now more than ever, weighing him down. He could picture himself, falling endlessly into the earth until he died of fear or dehydration. 

But such thoughts got him nowhere. He pushed them firmly out of his mind as he lifted his legs off of the sand, testing his weight against the rope. This was something that he had to do. This was something that there was no turning back from.

He knew the quicker that he made his way across the gaping maw of the earth, the better. Looking forward, he saw Maggot on the other side looking at him. As still and stoic as the rock that sat next to him. Waiting for the boy to make a move.

Worm closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before leaning over and wrapping his legs tightly for support. He let his body fall so his chest was now facing the sun. Those bright rays could now shine directly against his eye lids.

For now, maybe it was better that he could not see. Reaching an arm forward, he pulled his body along the first inch. The amount of strength that it took was shocking, Worm then realized. It became a very real probability that his muscles would give out, releasing him into the darkness beyond.  
But there was no turning back.

He pulled again and again, inch by inch, passing the sound of rushing sand under him. He tried not to think about the abyss at his back and tried to shrug away those invisible reaching hands of gravity and concentrate solely on moving forward.

The right arm, then the left, then the right... he timed his motions with his breathing, making a slow but steady pace. If he took his time, he would be alright, he told himself. Pulling and pausing, pulling and pausing, his arms began to shake. 

Squeezing his eyes tightly, it took him a moment to realize that he was falling.

The air rushed past him as he opened his eyes. He could see the sides of the chasm, spewing sand as a wound would spew blood. Worm’s heart felt like it was in his throat, he could not breathe, let alone scream. 

Falling faster, feeling his weight swinging toward the side that had been his goal, he knew what was going to happen only an instant before his body connected.

The hard, sharp rocks slammed into the side of his body harder than anything he had ever felt before. The shear force of the hit pushed out any last breath that his lungs held and his hands lost their grip. 

Blackness washed over his field of vision and he felt sand falling on top of his head, pushing him lower and lower, the woven fibers flying in between his hands. It was at the last instant that he gripped the rope tightly once more, his speed slowing as his hands in turn lost layers of skin, his hands felt like they were burning.

Still he clung to it tightly, and when he finally stopped he could not believe that he was alive. Gulping in massive amounts of air, he felt his heart slamming against his rib cage. Liquid covered the left side of his body, and he did not need to open his eyes to know that it was blood.

The entire left side of his body felt numb, it was only through sheer will power that he clung to the rope, but he knew that his remaining strength would not last long. The sand falling from above was pushing him downward and already his legs could not connect with the rope that should have been there.

Clenching his eyes tightly, he knew that he was mere inches away from free falling to certain death. It could not end this way. He wanted to cry, wanted to panic, but instead he took his last deep breath and screamed with all his might.

“Maggot! Help-!” his voice broke half way through his yell, and he knew that he did not have the stamina to repeat it. Clinging to the rope, he willed for it to move, waited to feel the hulking man dragging him to the surface, but instead he felt nothing.

The rope was still.

  
***  


Maggot saw the rope snap, and saw the boy fall. It was quick, quicker than his mind could register and faster that his eyes could keep up.

the tightly woven fibers had snapped on Worm’s end, leaving the anchoring boulder behind on the opposite ridge but letting the boys small frame plummet into the abyss. That chasm swallowed him with out a second thought and his life was gone in an instant, quick as a flash.

Watching him fall, his mind was slow to react but it was his emotions that responded quickly. Feeling like he had been smacked with a mountain of bricks, his chest caved in and his lungs would just not expand. His soul was heavy, and nothing could move him.

Standing there, at the edge of the desert, he felt numb. Completely like stone. The wind blew about strands of his dark, grimy hair while his keffiya beat around his cheeks, but he did not feel the strands against his tattered skin.

He had been wrong.

It was hard for him to understand the finality of it. Ever since he had lost control, ever since he had felt those hands on on his leg and kissed those dry lips, he had been plotting the boy’s demise. He had thought about doing it himself, about wrapping his hands against that smooth neck or simply crushing his skull while he slept. 

The fact was, though, that he could never bring himself to do it. In fact he was a fool to ever think that he could.

Now he could only stand and stare at the dark expanse where the boy had fallen, feeling loss wash over his heart in one giant wave. It felt like he was drowning, like he could not breathe. Fighting for air he tried to push these feelings out of his mind but it was impossible. It was all consuming.

It was all he could manage to simply remain standing, numb from everything around him including the footsteps approaching. The sounds reverberated in his ears but they did not reach his brain. Only when they finally made it through that thick mire of guilt and regret did he turn around.

Standing there were five, short and slight of build warriors forming a semicircle around him. They all stood at a battle stance, aiming their sharp, thin blades at his throat, the metal flashing.

Maggot found that he was a shell, and nothing stirred or fought within him. He simply looked at them, unseeing the details of their fatigue. 

This would solve all his problems, he thought. Dying here, at the edge of the desert. It was a fitting death for scum like him. After all, that was what he was. Filled with dark desires that fought to tear him apart and remake him into what he hated most, he no longer had the will power to fight them off.

Maybe this was all for the better, maggot mused. Worm dying before he became a victim yet again, and Maggot left to rot in this great expanse of sand, the sun bleaching his bones until there was nothing left.

He had resigned himself to his fate, waiting for those blades to pierce his throat, when lightning flashed through his consciousness turning everything on again with harsh white light. It was a fierce spark that emanated in the form of a small cry that hit his ears, it was Worm calling his name.

It was then that he saw the sand warriors in front of him, clad in their cloaks of woven sand, bringing back their weapons and thrusting straight forward with a rapid lunge. There was only a split second to act, a fraction of time that would be gone in an instant. 

Falling to the ground, Maggot let the swords tear at the cloth that protected his head, cutting the woven fabric and leaving strands of his hair whisking above his falling form. He then hunched his body and gritted his teeth. This was going to hurt. 

Balancing on his wounded knee, he inhaled deeply, focusing all of his willpower on his leg. Grasping that deep center of the universe, he forced it through his out stretched limb as he drug a sweeping kick through the legs of his attackers. 

Hitting their legs was like hitting brick, an only through shear force did the stone fall against his shin, those inhuman legs breaking into hundreds of fragments in a grey cloud of dust.

Maggot landed on the balls of his feet while twisting out of his pack and letting it fall with a loud clatter to the ground. He had to move quickly. His body was now facing the direction of the chasm and pushing off of the sand below him, he propelled his body forward, closing the gap between himself and the anchoring rock by a few feet.

Reaching the stone in a matter of seconds, he grabbed the rope and wrapped the thick fiber around his hand and bicep, using his body as an anchor. After he had a good hold, he faced back towards the stone people, and began to run their way, pulling Worm to the top.

Before him the stone solders had fallen to the ground, but what they were doing made Maggot’s blood run cold. They were reassembling their legs. the rocks and pebbles and dust were forming back into their thin calves. Their stone bodies seemed indestructible. 

Indeed there was no Turning back. Running was never an option for the man, he had fought so many battles that he had lost count, and never had he run. This enemy maybe indestructible, but if it was just him, he would have faced his death gladly. But there was the boy.

Worm. He was now the only factor.  
The brutal man now knew, with terrifying clarity, how much the boy meant to him. It was a truth that struck him hard. The boy made him confront the darkest part of his soul, but also reminded him of the man that he had lost so long ago. 

With determination set fiercely in his face, he ran back to the edge, to the precipice of their known world. They had crossed it and now they were going to survive it.

Worm was laying just past the quicksand, still clutching the rope tightly, the dry earth eagerly drinking his pooling blood. It was a miracle he had not fallen when his small frame smashed against the rock. Maggot took in his broken body, the entire left side of his body was drenched in blood, deep gashes letting the liquid flow out from his veins with alarming speed. 

Grabbing the boy’s small form, he pried his hands off of the rope and pulled him closer, laying him on his back and supporting him in his arms. His skin was growing placid and his breathing was slow. With half opened eyelids, Worm looked at him but did not see. Maggot swallowed hard but did not panic.

He reached into one of the packs dangling at his side with calculated calmness. In it, the small glass vials that Loruge had given them clanked together lightly as he pulled one out and brought it in front of him. Giving the boy one of Loruge’s concoctions was a gamble, but it was the only gamble that he had.

Fucking potions better work, he swore to himself, as he used his yellow teeth to rip the tiny cork from one of them. Letting the entire contents of the bottle fall into worm’s semi conscious mouth, Maggot had done all he could. The brutal man could feel his heart racing, willing the serum to work, needing it to work.

When had this happened? When had he embraced his weakness? Everything had happened so fast, he simply did not have the processing power to digest it. Pushing it out of his mind, he watched the boy with bated breath.

Slowly, Worm’s blood slowed as his skin hardened, taking on the resemblance of ruddy red stone. The crust traveled over his visible body, making its slow crawl everywhere the eye could see until he was covered. The man knew he had only bought time for the boy, but there was no telling for how long.

Turning around once more, the stone solders were already only a few steps away from him, weapons again drawn. Maggot found himself simply looking at them— he was vulnerable, the boy cradled in his arms and his mind was a confused mess. He had not planned on any of this.

He could not speak and they would have stabbed him before he could write. He did not have the time he needed to let another potion take effect. All of this barreled through his seasoned mind as it calculated and planned, trying to figure a way out of this cluster fuck of a mess. It was then that it came to him. He would charge into them.

They would not expect it, and it would buy him the few moments of time that he needed to sort things out in his head. Being a warrior meant taking gambles. It meant that when there was only a slim chance of survival, he had to take it.

Clutching the boy tightly, he raised up on his feet in a low crouch. His eyes were wild— that of a cornered beast wild with blood lust. His large, square shoulders bent forward and he took in a slow breath, focusing his strength in his legs and arms. He would break through the barrier of their bodies—no matter what the cost. 

He expected their blades to pierce his skin, to tear apart his leather vest and hack at his head—only, the blades never came.

The warriors simply stared back at him with faces concealed by hoods, bodies still as statues. Their sand cloaks beat about them and silence took over the tense situation. Maggot did not move, he did not breathe. He waited for his enemy to attack so he could catch them off guard. Gritting his teeth, he vowed that he would be victorious.

It was then, without a movement or a word said between them, all the warriors sheathed their swords with well practiced movement. Maggot did not know whether to look away or keep staring. Was this a clever ploy? he did not know, but his experience with death and killing told him that when he was cornered it was better to react then to act. If he and Worm wanted to come out of this alive, he would be wise to wait.

Four out of the five of them continued to stand as still as a mountain side, while the one in the center stepped forward and lowered it’s hood. Underneath, the face was unlike any Maggot had never seen before. 

The face that he saw was almost like Worm’s, but with more rounded features. The warrior’s hair was cropped short for practicality, and was surprisingly human against its stone skin, those short fibers tossing in the restless wind.

Maggot said nothing, as the leader then knelt next to him in order to look him in the eyes. “You would have given your life for him.” It was not a question, but an observation coming from a voice that was also different from any he had heard, paired with liquid black eyes that absorbed everything.

The voice it spoke with hit his ears in a different way, a different tone, but still serious. Maggot clenched his hands against the small form pressed to his chest. Worm’s breathing was shallow and his body was hard, but still pliable. He plotted for his cast iron gauntlets at his side. He knew never to take something at face value... If only it came a little closer... 

“Don’t do it.” The stone warrior said flatly, reading him like a book. “Do not make us regret taking pity on you.” the word left a horrible smear on the man’s pride, but he had no choice to swallow his dignity. 

“Never before have we come across a pair so strange.” Those completely black eyes took them in with cold calculation. Looking at Worm’s stone face, the vial laying on the ground, and the butchered horror of the man it all revolved around.

Maggot’s steel grey eyes were dangerous. They were the eyes of a killer, yet he had risked everything to save another. It was all too curious to the stone being who maybe once was human itself. After pausing with deliberation, it spoke once again.  
“We will take you back with us.” Was all that it said.

Maggot looked down at the hard boy in his arms and knew this was the only chance he was going to get. They were a long way away from Loruge and his healing abilities, and they only had four potions left.

There was no telling what would happen.

  
***  


The stone warriors all had faces like grown children. They were mature, but none of them had the jutting features of a man or were half as broad as he. Their cloaks shimmering as the sun hit them, heavy but graceful and floating in the breeze.

Maggot followed ten paces behind them, brooding in the complexities of which he now found himself. As much as he hated it, he had to play by their rules. 

Here, at the edge, there was only survival. Where were they leading him, the brutal man did not know. The only thing that he knew for certain was that there was simply no where else to go.

Both his and Worm’s packs weighed heavily on his shoulders as he trudged along behind the inhuman strangers, carrying the limp body of the boy as the heat of battle left his veins. 

The stone warriors carried no packs, no baggage. They wore no canteens at their hips nor were there signs of fatigue in their gait. If it were not for their human like features, Maggot would have thought them monsters. Hell, maybe they were.

But the fact remained that even if they were not human, they did not want them dead. The leader had said they were curious, but the brutal man knew that that was not the reason for their continued existence.

Maggot subconsciously pulled Worm tighter to his breast, inadvertently realizing that the potion was now fading. The stone of the surface of the boy’s skin began flaking off in large portions, much like a snake shedding it’s skin. As his natural olive complexion showed though his red blood once again started pouring. It fell in thin rivers against Maggot’s exposed chest and stomach, soaking into his filthy clothes.

Worm’s face spotted with sweat as his breathing became more rapid, those shallow breaths were confirmation that the stone stasis was lifted. 

The brutal man stopped and laid the boy gently on his back, they had made it less than 3 kilometers from the gash in the earth, but this stop was one that was inevitable. The boy had to be sewn up before he poured another vial of serum through his lips.

Setting his packs down, he opened up his own cloth bag and brought out a small kit. unwrapping it and laying it flat before him, Maggot checked that all his tools were ready before he got to work preparing a small hooked needle and thread. Sewing the boy would not be the problem, it was the possibility of infection that worried him. 

Maggot could feel the sun beating down directly on his back and head, the oppressive rays adding more tension to his circumstances. As he hunched over his tools, he could see in his peripheral vision that the stone warriors had stopped too, but he paid it no mind. He had work to do.

Worm’s left arm and leg were a ruin of deep gashes and torn flesh. He lifted the boy’s blood soaked robe off and then unbuttoned his lightweight cloth vest. His torso was now bare, but his left leg was injured also.

He wrapped his fingers around the waist band of his loose cloth pants and pulled them down, leaving only the boy’s undergarments behind.

In other circumstances he would have taken his time undressing Worm, letting his eyes linger over his form. Had it been another time, another place, he knew his dark desires would have been at the forefront of his mind, but now they were delegated to the back seat, fainting calling to him.

Looking at the separated flesh, Maggot knew that these wounds would leave scars. But what were scars in a hellish place like this, he thought, as he unscrewed a half empty canteen and rinsed the first of many wounds free from sand and blood. 

He had stitched his own wounds on many occasions, not to mention his training with Loruge. He had a quick and practiced hand, but the sheer amount of work would take at least an hour. It was an hour that he would rather not lose, but there was not really a choice.

As he placed one scarred hand on the boy’s shoulder, the other brought the needle close. His hand was steady, hooking the two flaps of skin on the first try as he pulled the thread tight. 

Ready to continue his grueling task, he was interrupted by a presence at his back. Turning, Maggot could feel the cloth covering the hole in his face billowing with controlled frustration. It was the leader of the stone monsters. This fucking creature needed to get out of his light.

“You are a killer. I can smell it on you.” the stone person said. The thing just stood there, it’s arms straight at its sides, its posture uncomfortably erect. Its voice still hitting his ears completely wrong. 

Maggot just blinked the sweat out of his steel colored eyes and furrowed his brow, saying nothing. 

“Still you bother with this one life.” It paused, analyzing the man with cool complexity. “Perhaps you use him to take your pleasure. I know such things go on beyond the gap.” The stone warrior’s voice was cool and calm, as if it was speaking of the weather. These creatures were capable of pity. They understood it. what they did not understand was how Maggot did. 

The words struck home with the brutal man, but he found himself more angry with himself than with the creature. It said what it observed. 

Maggot felt sick.  
He was a killing machine, horribly disfigured and caring nothing for anything but his own revenge. but something had changed. When he thought he had lost the boy, when he had thought that he had plummeted to his death, it made him realize that there was something more.

It was more than just his fantasies, his longing for another's touch. He knew this now, but still he could not put words to it. 

Looking at Worm, weak and unconscious, he wanted nothing more than for the boy to open his eyes. He wanted him for who he was. He wanted him to feel this same nameless feeling that had reared it’s ugly head. But then again, such things were impossible. Monsters like him had to remember their place.

Maggot just looked at the smooth faced creature thinking all of these things but knowing it could not understand his feelings for the child. It had not been through what he had been through. Instead he turned away and continued sewing the boy back together, one stitch at a time.

The stone warrior only looked on, saying nothing. If it thought anything of the way the brutal man had not denied it’s statement, it’s face did not betray those thoughts. Returning to it’s colleagues, they stood only a few feet off, and waited.

Maggot fixed the boy’s arm as best he could before moving onto the boy’s upper hip. He had threaded his needle once again and was ready to resume when he noticed a piece of cloth sticking out from Worm’s undergarments. 

He reached for it, knowing by it’s touch that it was not cloth at all, but well worn paper. It was a familiar color, crafted of fibers that he would know anywhere. It was a scrap of paper from his notebook. Unfolding it he read the message he had written that fateful night. The night he failed to take what was not his.

Already the man was a turbulent sea of emotion locked behind a strong door. but seeing this note made the storm pick up seven fold. Why did the boy keep this? Why did he carry it, tucked away like it was something precious?

Maggot looked into Worm’s face- those long eye lashes kissing the top of his cheek bones. What was the boy thinking....?

  
***  


What he saw when they arrived looked nothing like he had ever seen before. Maggot had been all over the desert, and had seen many different places and things- but this— this was something that he had no words to describe.

Before him there was a wall— higher than the compound, so high that the top of it was lost amongst the atmosphere above, blending with space itself. to the right and to the left, the wall ran as far as the eye could see, slowly curving. 

So this was the edge of the world.

On the surface of this massive, impossible wall were square like tumors. The lowest of the protrusions was still halfway up this unbelievable construction, ominously looking down on them all.

He took in all he could see as they approached, wondering how they would get up so high. It was then, though, that he saw the staircase built into the side of the wall.

It was a narrow, precarious thing, with nothing to protect one from falling to the ground below, chiseled out of the vary substance that made up the wall itself.

The sand warriors now formed a garrison around him, but Maggot was not watching them. Clutching Worm tightly he wondered how deep this rabbit hole went. This construction, it was something that no man could build, no matter how long it took. 

The leader broke his train of thought as they approached the base of the steps, sending two of it’s warriors ahead. “Stay close,” was all it said.

Those completely back eyes were shining as it looked at the boy in his arms, and then it looked at him. Maggot did not know what the creature was thinking. He did not know if this was a trap or if he could take them at their word. But at this point, he had no choice. If Worm was to live, he had to proceed.

The leader directed him to walk in front of it with a nod. Maggot paused, and then started on the long climb upward. The stairs were narrow and steep, zig zagging in increments of twenty with small landings in between.

Such a narrow path was the only way up. Maggot’s broad body spanned the entire width of the staircase, his outside elbow hovering over open air. Such a structure was a perfect defense. 

As they climbed he could see the chasm. It was a thick dark like spreading all along the wall. Was the entire desert like this? were they all surrounded by bottomless fissure a wall?

As they climbed tier after tier of steps he began to question, began to wonder, what more was there? His quest for revenge suddenly seemed much smaller. He and Worm were just cogs in the machine, endlessly churning. 

Just who had he fallen in with? He knew that they were enemies of the compound, but that was all that he knew. They were the sentinels looking over all of them below. They had the ability to build and contain them all. Where there other structures like this? other stair ways and protrusions? there had to be, but just how many more were there?

Maggot breath felt thin and his head was reeling as he reached yet another tier, they had been climbing relentlessly, with the stone creatures showing no signs of relenting. After what seemed like ages, the brutal man was relieved finally reach a tier where there was a door built into the wall. It was at this door that his escorts had stopped.

The door had no handle, no way to open it. The only mark on it was a hole, and one of the warriors approached it. They putting their stone mouth against the rock, they blew three short bursts. A sound came out of the stone. It was deep and long, as if the earth itself was moaning. 

It was then that the door opened. 

Inside seemed to glow softly with a pale white light. The sand warriors all filed inside. Maggot only watched.

If he went in, he would be trapped. He and the boy both. The leader looked at him. Those black eyes looked like liquid. “You will both be safe.” it said. It was serious. If creatures could make promises, this was it.

He did not want to go in. These people knew more than was possible, that was obvious. This wall, these buildings, this unearthly glow. The brutal man merely looked at the stone warrior and grudgingly went inside. He was not prepared for what he was to see.

The hallway was not made of stone at all, but constructed of smooth white tile. The soft glow came from fixtures in the ceiling, that burned but were not hot. 

Under his feet were more more tiles, but these were black, smooth and without blemish. They stood in a long hallway that seemed to go impossibly far, and it was lit with the same no burning fire. 

The leader looked at him with it’s short hair and liquid black eyes, but this time it did not say anything. Instead it motioned for maggot to follow it. The two of them made their way to opening a few steps away. Turning, they walked down yet another tube like hallway, and after a few paces, it began to grow cool. 

The brutal man could feel the elevation change as he followed deeper in to the structure. This hallway was built with gradient, and he knew they were traveling farther up inside the wall. the tiles beneath his feet changed from black to blue, and when he looked up they were in a completely new space.

In this space, there was someone waiting for them.  
This was a human, not made of stone but of flesh. It had the same type of face as the stone warrior, but it’s blue eyes were large with surprise.

It had a small shoulders and delicate arms, with hair that feel in sand colored ringlets, but the most descriptive thing about this particular stranger were the mounds on it’s breast. This was a woman.

Maggot and the woman stared at each other, horror flashing in her eyes for a second before she looked at the crumpled boy in the scarred man’s arms.

“sister,” she began in soft but composed voice. “What have you brought me?”

  
\----------------------------------------  
End Part Eight  
\----------------------------------------  



	9. Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which insignificance is made apparent,  
> The man does what is needed,  
> and the boy awakes.

\----------------------------------------  
Part Nine  
\----------------------------------------

 

The atmosphere went tense as the stone creature took a step forward. It was was a head shorter than Maggot, but it's figure was none the less imposing. The look on the woman’s face before them was enough to tell him that none of this had been planned. This sand shrouded warrior appeared to be acting of it’s own accord, with the intent of keeping its word that they would be looked after. Either that or this was merely an elaborate plan to gain some semblance of his trust.

He knew that it would be for the better if they had someone on their side. Someone who knew where they were and what the hell was going on, but he was suspicious of the motive. For right now, Maggot tried to be only an observer. He would attempt to learn as much as he could before he was inevitably drawn deeper into this cluster fuck of a situation.

“Sister,” his potential ally began. In this unnatural white light, the grains in its cloak faintly shimmered. “I have a guest that needs medical attention, please provide us with your escort.” It's voice was cool and calm.

The blond woman hesitated for a moment before letting her eyes travel to the guests that were presented to her. Maggot felt her eyes judge him, analyze him. Her expressions were soft, but behind those blue eyes was a mind trying to dissect him.  
Under her intense gaze, Maggot clutched Worm tighter.

“Sister, you know what you are asking, correct?” Her soft face was open but she was not afraid, surprise had simply caught her off guard.  
The stone warrior did not miss a beat in its reply. “Yes. I do.”

Maggot could feel her eyes suddenly becoming sharper as she returned to her intense scrutiny. His keiffya had been sliced in their battle and the loose cloth had fallen on his wide dirty and shoulders. With out the fabric to hide behind, she could see almost all of his square and scarred features.

Her stare finally relented as she then looked to the floor. “I will only agree because it is you, Lilah.” she quietly replied as and she turned, her long white cloak waving in the air, reveling a more narrow form fitting robe below. Her feet were wrapped in white wrappings which, when combined with the white wall tiles of the room, made for an intensely hypnotic feeling. 

It was like he had stepped into another world when he entered this impossible structure.

The sand cloaked creature turned and looked up at him, its flesh was smooth rock that made little movement while its fatigue was now visible from underneath its impossible cloak. Its simple cloth dress and practical belt held its sword to its side while its pants now ended above it's knees exposing the stone flesh left bare from his powerful kick.

It waited until the other woman had walked just a little further, and speaking in a low voice, it once again instructed him to stay close. Maggot felt himself smirk darkly while following it. What difference would her presence make when shit hit the fan? And judging by the blonde woman’s reaction, that turn of events was very likely.

Maggot grimly followed. He did not trust her, and he sure as hell did not feel good about his and worm's situation. His dark and suspicious mood only increased as their small company moved forward down yet another color coded hall.

This entire place seemed to be constructed of the same, smooth tile. As they moved deeper into the organized web of hallways and junctions Maggot could never shake the feeling of being underground.

Walking in a single file line, the blonde woman held the front followed by the creature and then him. As they systematically traveled through the corridors, Maggot felt eyes watching them at every tunnel junction. There were never more than one or two pairs, but their strong gaze felt like more than a dozen. 

This must have been why the stone warrior had approached the blonde woman first. Why it had asked her to accompany them. She must have had some semblance of authority because their procession was never once stopped and questioned. 

As they walked, the tiles on the floor changed from white to blue, and before long they only walked on a tiled blue sea. It was then that they approached large, matching blue doors. The blonde woman walked forward, placing her hands on their massive structures and with little effort and the way opened before them.  
`  
It was an incredibly bright room. Shining hard tiles combined the walls and ceiling in one unified grid pattern. In the center of the room there were four beds, with matching stark white linens. metal bars rose up from their sides, constructed there to keep the patient from falling off unconsciously.

The cold air of the sterile room made Maggot’s exposed skin prickle. His mind brought unbidden memories of desert nights, spent lying next to Worm, watching his chest rise and fall as the brutal man had tried to join him in sleep. He could not help but wonder if they would ever be like that again.

It was then, over in the corner, a recessed entrance made itself known as yet another woman stepped into the affair. It was evident that she had been working, because she wore long gloves and a face length mask. Lifting up her arms, she took off the large safety precaution, revealing medium length brown hair and a wide clever face. 

Those eyes were now taking in the group that stood before her and she had to quickly grip the mask to keep it from falling. She looked to be the type of person who was cool under pressure but this time her actions betrayed her. 

It was now the sand warrior who spoke for them once again. it seemed that they were making their way up the food chain. Just who was who in this web of networks? And just where did the authority lie?

“Ma’m. I must respectfully cut to the chase. I am prepared to make a statement to you," the creature's voice was serious and firm, but respectful. "but I ask that you give medical attention to my guest while I give it.”

“Guest?” she questioned. “Unless I am mistaken, It is your duty to not let any of them pass.” her voice was haughty and authoritative, it seemed she had quickly recovered from her momentary bout of shock.

The creature took a moment to respond, its voice filled with conviction. “It is.”

“Then why did you bring them here? You should have killed them on the spot.” It was an accusatory jab, one that demanded an answer. By the way she spoke and carried herself, it was clear that this was someone who far surpassed his ally in ranking.  
She had the power to make this either very good or very bad.

“M’am you are correct, but that is something that I would rather discuss in my debrief.”

The clever woman set her tools down and looked at the creature now, her eyes flashing with impatience. She had no time to be the play the game of formalities, she needed a straight answer. Her look was one that could cut to the bone, and the blonde woman to Maggot's right unconsciously flexed her hands.

Maggot on the other hand was not as nervous as he was curious. Why would a perfect stranger stick its neck out for him? 

was it because they were both monsters, he darkly mused, trying to cling to their last shreds humanity? If so, that was a foolish, sentimental reason. This thing was a skilled warrior and it should have gotten rid of any such weaknesses long ago. 

It was then that Worm stirred in his arms, his young face straining with the fight for survival. Worry flashed unbidden in Maggot's mind before he realized that he was equal amounts a fool. Had he not made peace with his own weakness? His feelings for the boy? 

The clever woman relaxed her frown and her eyes narrowed at the stirring form in the brutal man's arms. She begrudgingly relented as she grunted a reply.  
“Fine.”

She began touching the smooth tiled walls lightly, letting her fingers hit in certain places, making the tiles spring forward to reveal shelves or drawers. From these places she selected items that she thought she might need. Maggot could guess at most of them, but it was the stone warrior who interrupted his train of thought. 

It was looking up at him, it's liquid black eyes intelligent. “Place him on the bed.” It said. But instead Maggot chose to not do anything. he simply looked back into those eyes that resembled a dark abyss. 

This place was not normal. The air was dry and tasted stale while the material that covered every nook and cranny was supernaturally smooth and exact. The wall, the chasm, and the stone creatures. All of this was another layer of reality. something that was beyond them and their fucked up little world. His entire life now seemed to be insignificant. Had any of it meant anything at all? 

He could not help but feel that he had been backed into a corner yet again by whatever ill named fate haunted him. Maggot hated everything about this, he and the boy were in way over their heads. But had there really been an alternative choice? The stone warrior was now looking at him more intently, and he had to remind himself of the reason that he was there.

Stepping forward, his escort moved out of his way. Reaching the closet bed, he could feel all three sets of eyes looking it him as he gently laid Worm down. The stark white cloth against his filthy skin and his once new clothes were now four shades darker. The image made Maggot realize just how far they had gone together.

Stepping away, he placed their packs on the ground, his shoulders sighing in relief. He did not intend on leaving this room for a while, so he made himself at ease close by. Crossing his arms, he stood where he had a good view of the three strangers and Worm before him. 

The brown haired woman now wore strange gloves on her hands as she approached Worm who lay weak on the bed. Bringing a tray of perfectly gleaming tools in their own tray, her steps were accompanied by their faint rattling before she placed her tools on the bed beside him.

Maggot never took his eyes off of her as she moved a mechanism underneath the bed with her leg. The boy's form raised up to meet her as she lifted worm’s body gently out of his robe and tunic. His torn flesh was angry and red, the black thread that the man had used to stitch close the leaking wounds was tight and even. The doctor took a moment to admire the work.

“Magareet, you are dismissed for now.” the doctor ordered, preoccupied. The blonde woman started, disappointed and exchanging a look with the stone creature as she left. Before letting the door close behind her, she cast one last look at Maggot but was then out of view completely.

“Lilah, begin.” The doctor's voice was quick and to the point, preparing a object that resembled a large glass tube. One end had a thin sharp object connected to the glass container while she drew back a plunger, drawing liquid into the contraption.

Standing a few paces behind the doctor, Lilah gave no prior hint about what she was about to say. Maggot knew well that this brief of hers would most likely determine his and the boy’s fate. She gave it with no hint of emotion, although what she said would prove other wise.

“Ma’m, as you know it is our purpose to watch the edge and my team was currently in our third month of surveying. We had already had the anticipated number of attempted crossings, when this team came along.

"Usually in all black and in groups of seven or more, these two stuck out to us, but at that time there was never a question about whether or not they would be eliminated. 

“After witnessing feats of strength and waiting only the span of a single day, the two of them attempted a crossing separately. The man made it successfully, but the boy appeared to have fallen. 

After witnessing such a fierce will to cross, i was caught off guard by the look of death behind his eyes. It seemed that an easy kill was before us, and just as we were delivering the final blow, it was then that this boy called out to him from the chasm.

He was then then man we expected. Strong and fast, he rendered us crippled while he made a dash for the source of the cry. We watched as he poured a potion that mimics the effects of our own stone oath. But only when he clutched the boy to his chest and looked at his death defiantly, I found that I could not kill this man. 

Because he has such a strong will to live for someone other than himself.”

The stone warrior's brief came to a close. It was a surprisingly heartfelt debrief that left Maggot feeling sour. The irony of being saved by his weakness was not lost on him. He had fought it up till now and had only stopped simply because he no longer had the will to fight it. Crossing his arms, he stared at his filthy feet on the pristine floor.

The clever woman had pushed the narrow needle inside of Worm, injecting him with the fluids that the glass instrument had contained. Now she was unraveling long and thin rubber veins that disappeared into the metal frame of the bed. Placing these tubes near of each of Worm's arms, they buried themselves into his soft flesh. it was then that a faint humming sound began.

“The Chancellor will need to hear this.” The doctor said softly, her implications unspoken. Sighing, she then looked up at Maggot as she worked her now free hands through her fallen hair. “Do you have anything to say about this?”

Maggot felt the absence of his tongue weighing like stone in his mouth. Did they want him to confirm his pathetic attempts to keep someone close? To what ends? so they could mock him? 

Instead he reached to his side to pull out his notebook, the doctor watching his every move while the stone creature merely gazed on analytically. 

When the filthy paper book was brought into view, he flipped pages until he found one still blank. Writing with his cramped, geometric style, he wrote and then revealed his short message to the two.  
‘Nothing. I can not speak.’

The dark truth of it was that he could speak, but he had not done so since his tongue had been sliced out. He had tried once, laying on his back at Loruge’s. After most of his blood had been slowly restored by the black clad man, the scars remained. The body could never forget what had happened to it.

In that dark room where only he was awake, his strangled voice had been a pathetic sound that only filled him with shame. He had never spoken out loud again.

Lilah looked at him knowingly while the doctor’s face flashed with dark curiosity. Pulling the notebook back, Maggot moved his writer to another space on the same paper, before showing it to the women once more.  
‘The Boy?’

The brown haired woman read it and frowned. The men of the desert knew nothing of the women, but mysteriously enough thus far it seemed that the women were not ignorant of them. These strangers had not told him the whole story, and Maggot wondered if he would live long enough to ever know.

The doctor read his question and merely nodded, saying with a clinical voice, “He lost a lot a fluid,” she fingered the clear tube. “so we are replenishing his blood with neutral blood cells. I gave him some old fashioned antibiotics for the infection, but otherwise he will live. I am not sure of the use that he is going to have in his arm, though.”

Maggot was silent at that, letting the information sink in. It would be hard for the boy to continue if he had only partial use of his arm, but he had no intention of parting with him. If they had to decrease their supplies so he could carry all of it, so be it. 

The doctor sighed and then looked at the sand cloaked figure. The brown haired woman's expression was a little heavier, but she still maintained her dignified air. “I think it’s best if you now deliver this man and these circumstances to the chancellor. Any more decisions about what to do with these two will come from her.”

The stone creature nodded knowingly and looked at Maggot who knew what was coming. Leaving Worm was not what he had wanted to do, but he had known that it would probably happen. Hesitating a moment before leaving the boy, he laid his rough and bandaged hand on Worm's wet forehead. His delicate face was pained even in unconscious slumber. 

***

Worm felt like he was falling deeper and deeper into the soft cushion that pressed against his back. He felt it as a solid mass and yet it kept pulling him into it's synthetic depths.

He searched his hazy memory, looking for what had happened and finding only the memory of Maggot leaning over his numb body, his face etched with worry. Snippets of time continued to bubble to the surface of his mind. Recollections of Maggot carrying him, of holding him, kissing him. He could still remember the way his lips felt against his own, and the passion that had been behind them.

It was a memory that he found he could not easily be rid of. Even now, floating in between the waking and sleeping worlds, it was clear. He could smell the older man's heavy scent and his lungs expanded to try and smell him once more.

But instead of the sticky smell of Maggot, stale tasteless air forced it's way against his tongue. He could see him, he was close enough that he could touch that scarred face, but as he moved his arm to pull the man closer, Worm fully awoke to the reality around him.

He was in a room, but it was hard to make out at first. The colors all blended together in dim a fog with only a dim light source radiating from overhead. Worm moaned as he tried to shift his body but his left arm and leg were tight with a sharp pain.

Still, it took a minute before what had happened suddenly came rushing back. The rope had snapped, bringing his body with a crippling amount of force to smash against the rock wall of the chasm. 

He should have died.

Instead, he hung on with a power that he did not know he had in him, and called for the very man that left him feeling so confused, but never alone.  
But what had happened after?

His blurry vision seemed to have abated enough for him to look at what now surrounded him. He seemed to be on a bed, but it was a bed unlike any he had ever felt in a room unlike any he had ever witnessed. He wondered briefly if he had been mistaken, perhaps he was dead?

Moving around gently he became aware of tubes embedded in his arms tugging tightly, and indeed that he was naked underneath a thick blanket. He felt his heart begin to pick up in his chest as he began to panic, only to have the same rhythm echo back at him from the bed.

Worm moved his right arm to his left, gripping the thin tubes tightly, he prepared to rip them out of his arm. He was not staying here. The enclosed room made him feel like he was underground, with the weight of the earth pushing down on his shoulders and the beeping of his own heart from the bed was terrifying.

Gritting his teeth for the pain that he knew was going to come, he was interrupted by a voice at his side. "What do you think you are doing?"

Worm jolted. The voice was different than any type of voice he had heard before. It was a voice that definitely did not belong to a man, and as he turned, he did not expect what stood at his side.

It was a woman. Her hair was brown and cropped at her shoulders, while her eyes glittered with intrigue. Worm only swallowed as she placed her hand on his, bringing it away from the tubes protruding from his arms.

"You do not want to do that." The woman, said, peering down her nose at him. Worm felt uneasy, but he could not tell if it was from the woman or if it was because of the situation. "These tubes are re-hydrating your body, drip by drip." The brown haired woman informed him, tapping on the bed's metal frame.

"Where is Maggot?" Worm had been aware of his master's absence in the forgein room and he wondered if he had escaped death only to be separated from him once again. 

"Is that his name?" The brown haired woman tapped her lip for a second before once again speaking. "How about you tell me your name and a little about yourself. After that I will think about telling you what happened to him."

"and why should I tell you anything?" Worm shot back, wondering if somehow they had gotten the better of him. If they had killed Maggot by shear numbers alone. The possibility was too frightening as he shoved it down below.

"Because I want to know what is the truth." Her eyes were serious and Worm could feel the gravity of the situation around him. He was in a forgein place, with a woman in front of him, vulnerable in ever aspect of the word. Swallowing, he realized that he had no choice. If he wanted to find out where Maggot was, he was going to have to play her game, but still he felt defiant.

"So tell me, what is your name and just how did you end up with a man like him?"

Worm did not say anything for a while. The woman appeared impatient, but she none the less waited for his reply. Looking down at the white blanket over his bare form, Worm could feel how soft and warm the fabric was. Although that did not stop his exposed chest and arms from prickling.

"I was lucky," Worm finally began. "I owe him more than my life. It is a debt that can never be repaid." The boy looked at the woman's eyes, which were drinking in his every word.

Worm told her of Maggot buying him, almost raping him, before running away with him. He told her of their close encounters, of the night that he had discovered that he and Maggot were one and the same.

He spoke of the deep bond that he then felt. He told her of Loruge and how he had taught him to read and write. How he had directed them to this place. He told her the truth.

"But why did you come?" the brown haired woman pressed. "Why would the two of you risk everything to come to a place that you were not even sure existed?"

"Maggot came and I only followed." Worm replied. 

It was the sort of black and white remark that only Worm could make, and the doctor frowned at him. "Did you not have a say?"

"It was my choice to follow him." Worm replied. "It was the first real choice I ever had the privilege to make." Gripping the sheets before him, Worm's left arm screamed in pain. His grip was weak, but his hand could move. It seemed that more than just his flesh had been torn.  
"please," he did not want to beg, but he had to know. "where is he?"

The doctor's face was now filled with something else. Was it guilt? regret? Worm would never know, but her eyes seemed to move like the surface of an oasis as his earnest plea. Opening her mouth, she merely asked one more time, "What is your name?"

Clenching his eyes tightly, he blurted out "Worm" before exhaustion took it's toll. Thick tears silently trailed down his face as the fear of his situation combined with the absence of any familiar face.

There was no more conversing as Worm let those wet drops fall to his hands. His body shook with his guarded cries until he culled those emotions inside of himself. Rubbing his right arm against his face he whipped the sticky wetness as the doctor then spoke to him.

"My name is Mara." She said, hesitating to reach out physically to the boy, but offering her name to make him feel more at ease. "That man you came with, Maggot, he was taken to the chancellor's office to plead his case."

"His case?" Worm's voice shuddered. 

"Yes." Mara confirmed. "You see, you two are the first men any of us have seen. The stone sentinels are supposed to kill any men they find attempting to cross."

"But why?"

It was at this simple question that the doctor became silent. Her face became grim as she looked at the boy in the eyes, "I don't know if you will ever know that answer." It was a truthful response that had a layered meaning. 

It was an obvious train of thought for a boy who had been the victim of so many tragic experiences in his short and thus far tragic life. Made a sex slave only to be saved by a man who was even more lost than he.

Worm rubbed his face firmly, feeling that he was still alive, verifying that it was on this cruel earth that he still existed. "You better get some more rest. You will be on those tubes for a few more hours." He could hear Mara say as she returned to the far side of the room where she had been working under a lamp.

"We will know how to proceed when someone eventually returns." Her voice was farther away now, and Worm laid back once again into the synthetic bed. This was all too much. His case? Instant death? Who had they fallen in with that they had that much power over a man who had such supernatural strength?

There had to be reasons, just as he knew that there were more layers to the story of this place. It's just that no one was telling him anything.

Letting a long and deep exhale settle his body comfortably into the bed, his eyes became surprisingly heavy. He was tired. His wounds and the journey had taken their tole on him, not to mention the emotions that were constantly getting tangled in his head.

Ever since the kiss, his and Maggot's relationship had changed. It had taken on new contexts layered with an enticing sensuality that made him disgusting. What had he turned into?

Fighting back sleep, Worm did not realize that unconsciousness had already won as his mind's eye put him back into that tent in the desert, curled against the back of the man that he had once feared.

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Nine  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real life keeps entrenching on the time that I would rather be spending on this story.
> 
> Smutty bits are coming up real soon, and I am super pumped for that.  
> Thanks for hanging in there :^)


	10. Part Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the plot thickens,  
> a new character is elaborated upon  
> and the night gets warm.

\----------------------------------------  
Part Ten  
\----------------------------------------

 

Their foot steps echoed in the hallway, reverberating off of the tiles all around them. The disorienting property was just another way that this maze like structure could confuse outsiders. Lilah had chosen the meandering route, knowing that this way was the least likely to bring the them across other residents.

She knew that she was acting strangely. She was making judgment calls based on feelings. What was happening to her? Before today there had only had been what she did know and what she did not. And now, there were possibilities.

Her mind was no longer clear. In fact she could feel the spongy wetness of her brain now resting insider her stone skull. When had that happened? She felt like she had been locked away for a long time. And now she was keenly aware of her limbs again. She could feel the tightly compressed gravel that made up her appendages shift minutely underneath her weight.

Passing junctions, no longer did they feel eyes peering at them from the corridors. Soon, she was confident that they would have an uninterrupted moment of solitude. 

Lilah knew that there were things that had to be said between just the two of them, but it seemed that she was not the only one to have the idea, as it was just then that she felt the bandaged hand on her shoulder.

She turned to face the hulking man only to see that he already had already something written for her. Looking at his face, it was evident that his was one accustomed to hard expressions. Only now it was not so much fierce as it was honest. 

On the dirty paper with fewer and fewer clean places to write 'why are you helping us?' was written in a cramped style. He was not stupid and the doctor had made it clear that her actions were an unusual turn of events. The problem was that so far she was not entirely sure herself.

It was true that it was something in his expression had awoken something inside of her again, but she did not know why. She had taken the lives of countless crossers but always left one or two of them alive, so they could relay the slaughter that had occurred there. Although it was meant to, it failed to deter the number of crossings.

So much blood had been erased by the sand. So much blood had dripped over her blade. Even the ones with powers had fallen against her indestructible body. So why them? 

Time was short, eventually someone would pass by and see their candid conversation. The ones who had the stone oath never stood around, idle when they could be taking action. Those who were stone followed orders.  
The event would be sure to arouse suspicions.

"There will be more time to talk later." She diverted, the situation buying her more time. "For now, just remember. When we get to The Chancellor's office, do not look into her eyes while she is speaking.” She remembered the events of the past clearly, all of the years that she had been stone. The fact now seemed important to her. 

when she was completely stone, her body was impervious to harm and thus did not experience any tissue stimulation that left organic beings susceptible. But it was only after she was part flesh, that she knew that this would provide a dangerous weakness for both of them.

At the woman’s voice, the listener would be compelled to gaze into her eyes and be hypnotized by those strange irises that spun in a slow, and strange hypnotic manner. Upon looking into them, the viewers face would grow slack, and her eyes would glaze over. 

People would then reveal more than what they had intended to say, and often agreed with blind acquiescence. She did not want this man to fall into those twisted lines of thought before she had her say.

So many more things made sense now. She knew her warning sounded insane but she was anything but lying. The chancellor was a woman who was not to be toyed with. It was only now that her brain was no longer stone did Lilah find that she view these things disturbing.

Heading straight for the den of the soothsayer, they were already taking too much time. News had a way of spreading like clock work through the hives of the place and Lilah did not want to cause anymore suspicion cast upon them than what already had.

But now, leading the way into both of their indeterminate fates, Lilah was thinking critically about the situation she realized that she what they did now nothing more than and insane gamble. Their fates could swing either way and no one had more to lose than they. 

The conversation had not a clue what the chancellor would say. what she would ask, and what would be the answer. It was true that she had not a clue about why the two of them would be out in the desert, crossing the chasm. But she also knew that this was not the time to be second guessing herself.

Now, standing in front of large doors, Lilah shot one last look at the man beside her. His steel grey met hers, but his face was now unreadable. It seemed he was one who was well versed in the ways of hiding behind a mask.

His hair shined with grease under the artificial light and his scarred face was filthy with dirt. She could tell that underneath the layers of grime that his dark skin was criss crossed with scars that that disfigured his skin in every viewable place. 

Placing her hard stone hands against the doors she lead the way into what would be a war zone of the mind. A battle that occurred purely internally, one that would test the discipline of the mind. 

Inside the room was much like the rest of the tiled hive of a structure but with a ceiling triple the height of the tunnel they had just come from. The dramatic change is space made for a euphoric feeling.  
It was all part of the entrant’s internal experience.

Sitting there, at a square glass desk, was The Chancellor herself. Her grey hair slicked back over handsome features with one eye brow inquisitively raised at their entry. Lilah could already feel her eyes being to be sucked into the older woman’s gaze. Locking her vision on the soft creases of the older woman’s forehead, Lilah desperately clung to the ruse of her invulnerability.

“So you make your entrance..” The Chancellor hummed behind folded hands. Her breath was normal and so was her tone of voice, but this meant nothing. Her power was one that was subtle. It was a power that ensnared and tangled all while leaving the victim unaware. 

The Chancellor’s eyes fell on the scarred man. It was unsurprising that this was where her interests really lie. His presence alone was the reason for the expedited meeting. Under normal circumstances it would have taken days to arrange an audience with the chancellor herself. 

Dissecting him with her eyes, those faint wrinkles made her look more fierce than gentle, and Lilah could feel her willing the man to make eye contact. If either of them slipped for just a moment, they would both fall victim to the trap and who knew then what would spill forth.

Lilah knew that the chancellor wanted to open him like a book. She wanted to lay all of his secrets bare, she wanted to pick and choose which ones would serve her best and then utilize them for her own desires. That was the way that the enchantment always worked, and in her hands, such a power could made her unstoppable.

“Ma’m” Lilah carefully began, always mindful of where her eyes fell. The amount of discipline it took to be constantly aware of such a small function would wear on her psyche over a short amount of time. Lilah dared to hope that this meeting would be short and sweet before giving her entire brief with such confidence that one would not suspect that anything was amiss.

At the close of her speech, The Chancellor was silent. Biding her time before she had to make a decision. The older woman was notorious for her silent sittings. Lilah watched her pursed mouth with her own liquid black eyes. waiting until they opened. 

“Come, sit.” The Chancellor finely said when she broke her silence, gesturing languidly with a draped arm. 

Her garments were a light Grey, loose and ethereal and they flowed about her shrouded body. Her eyes were cunning and intelligent, looking for any flaw to extort. Sitting into plush white chairs, Maggot placed his filthy form into the pristine fabric without a second thought.

Lilah controlled her face to stay perfectly serene. If she let her face drop for even a second, then it would mean death for them both. It would prove that something was wrong, and Lilah would be forced by her own sisters to look into her gaze. Her secret would come spilling forth off of her treacherous tongue. After that, all three of them would surely die.

The Chancellor settled back in her chair and look at them both. “I have heard your brief,” she directed at Lilah, “But I still am unclear...” She now turned to Maggot with a cat like expression “...as to why you attempted to cross in the first place. There must be a reason... if you were willing to put both you and the boy you allegedly care so much about in such danger.” 

The last part of her statement was more like a stab.  
She was trying to get the man to forget himself. 

The man tensed only slightly, bringing out his notebook he turned to a page with more room. The Chancellor watched his movements with her clever eyes. 

The man began to write. Concentrating on controlling her expression, Lilah watched the with bated breathe. Had he slipped up? had he looked?

It took painfully long for him to complete his note and when it was finally done, he handed it to the grey haired woman. Lilah did not have a chance to see what it contained.

While reading it, The Chancellor’s face remained the same level of seriousness. When she was done, she placed the notebook down before the man again, as he grabbed it and once again tucked it away.

She was pensive, but her brain was churning concocting motions and plans of which the outside world was oblivious.

“Fine.” she finally said, “In three days time, you make take the stone oath. An indestructible body should aide you more than enough. It is then that I want you and the boy out.” 

Lilah’s heart sank. This was a worse outcome that she could imagine. If he became stone, then he would forget the importance everything. He would become dead to the world, just like she had.

Her mind had roared to life now that it was flesh, and already her half concocted ideas fell apart around her. Was could possibly be his reason? Or was it his reason at all?

***

Worm had been escorted to private rooms when he had awoken from his nap. Word had come to Mara from The Chancellor’s aide to move their guest along because of Night. His hazy waking mind obstructed his full understanding, but Worm had gathered a general understanding. It was during the early nighttime, or Night, when everyone would be excused from their duties.

The room had not been far off from the clinic where Mara had treated him, but he was not permitted any more ounce of freedom than he had confined to the bed. Entering the room, a recessed tile door locked into the wall behind him with no handle to reach the other side. 

On a positive note the private quarters of the room did seem more human and less cold. There were two large beds, made of the same synthetic fiber that he had laid on in the clinic. With clean sheets, a mound of soft pillows and a thick blanket, the beds were more than Worm could have ever imagined. 

Looking around, the light was comfortably dim but still provided enough contrast that he could make out his surroundings. Worm forced his sore body to hobble to one of the over sized beds, hoping that they were as comfortable as they looked.

Upon laying down, the bedding enveloped him. His arm still felt tight from the stitches, but the luxurous textile and pillow like mattress soothed away almost all of his pains. Letting out a contented sigh, he gazed out behind half lidded eyes at the room around him.

Their packs had been carried in behind him and currently lay against the wall to one side. In the far corner, a smaller room lead off to what the boy assumed to be the bathing room.

Worm was exhausted but no matter how much he tried to relax, his mind kept wandering. He thought of his master, who seemed to unreachable. He thought of this strange place that now contained them, and wondered if they would see the cruel desert again. This place was allsuming, and he could not help but feel like prey caught in a cage. Breaking his train of thought, it was then that the recessed door opened. 

Sitting up, Worm knew who it was. It was only a manner of time before the man would return. He knew that his master would never leave him but what he was not expecting was that something in him had clearly changed.

The man was stepping toward him, his keffiya lay around his shoulders so that his entire head shown. The boy found himself staring at Maggot's gruff features and grey eyes that engulfed him.Worm found that he wanted to speak, but his voice would not function. 

The door closed once again with a soft click, and suddenly it was only the two of them alone once again. 

Slowly standing up, Worm set his wrapped feet on the ground below him while the man only stood a few paces away. Looking up to meet Maggot's face, the boy could feel his heart suddenly become intimately warm. 

It was then that he knew what had changed. The man had been afraid, afraid he had lost him for good but here he was, standing before him alive and well. The two of them had never had much need for words. And there were times that language failed to express just how one could feel.

Worm now found himself wrapped in a gentle embrace. Maggot’s body was tepid against him and those filthy arms pressed their bodies even closer. Caught off guard, the boy was surprised at the sudden closeness but soon found himself reaching his own arms up to embrace the man back.

Their physical closeness filled a pit inside of worm that he carried since he could remember. It was felt like he was overflowing. Pressing his face into Maggot’s leather vest, he listened intently to other man’s beating heart. After a moment he found it, steadily thumping deep in his cavernous chest.

Worm knew what it meant to be physically close to someone, but this... this was more than that. There was a connection with the meeting of their bodies. When they were next to eachother, it was like their souls could touch.

Through that touch, Worm imagined that he could feel the emptiness the other felt. A feeling that was so painful and deep but one the boy knew quite well. Worm knew that that he had added to that dark well but instead of feeling guilty it made him want to never let go.

No part of Worm wanted the embrace to end. Wrapped in those strong arms, he felt safe in this alien structure. He knew by the very fact that they both yet lived was proof enough that Maggot had handled himself well. Their 'case' was heard and if only for a few minutes, Worm wanted to pretend that there was nothing amiss.

He wanted to pretend that they were both somewhere else, somewhere far away where the contingencies of others failed to ensnare them. After a lifetime of slavery, he knew that he wanted to be free. He wanted the freedom to choose what he wanted.

After a long span of time, their bodies separated. Looking into the brutal man’s face, Worm saw an expression that was soft but halting. The cavernous hole that marred his visage gently buldged the fabric that covered it as he breathed. He was vulnerable and unsure; but the universe gently whispered that someday, things would be different.

Silence passed between them and Worm knew that he had only wanted to be close to the man, close enough to be trusted, close enough to try and repay him for saving his life, for showing him that there was more than just suffering in the world.

Maggot reached a calloused, filthy and bandaged hand to worm’s face. His skin was rough and dry but by contrast his touch as gentle. As his thumb slowly caressed his cheek, Worm could only swallow with anticipation as their faces drew closer and Maggot’s lips met his.

His mouth was arid and gritty, much like the first time, but inside him the boy's thoughts were churning. It was the awareness that he had secretly hoped this moment would come again so he could choose something differently. Now, caught up in time, he opened his lips and kissed the man back.

He lost himself in that welcoming mouth, his toungue pressing apart Maggot's lips, tracing the yellowed bones of his teeth before angling his head to kiss him deeper. His tongue explored the other man's mouth, probing those creviceis, falling into the old habits that he was used to.

It was then that feelings of guilt came bubbling to the surface. So many men had used him this same way, had pushed their lips to his. It had destroyed him, confused him and now he was against Maggot.

It was the guilt from being used and thrown away, the disgrace that stayed after becoming disgusted yourself and your situation. Only now, he could swallow the feeling away. He knew that Maggot cared for him, and that he would die for him but it was because he loved him that they were sharing this caress.

Pulling their lips away, they breathed into the faint space around them. There was no more hesitation in Maggot’s filthy form as he looked at the boy below him. With his cheeks still being held in the man's hard hand, Worm had to make sure that he was not falling.

What was this feeling in his chest? it pushed so hard that his ribs felt like they were going to burst. Bringing up his own hands, he placed them over his master’s, bringing his touch firmer to his cheek, trying to disappear away from the horrors of the past.

Maggot released his hands from his face only to place a gentle hand on the boy's back, leaning him gently onto the bed behind him. Climbing onto the mattress beside him they buried themsleves into the large bed, ther limbs loosely tangled. Worm let his fingers dance lightly over Maggot’s exposed chest. The largest area left free of scarring was barely the width of one of his fingers, thus leaving his chest hair uneven and patchy.

The words carved on his breast were a horrible memory, but worm found himself tracing the the hills and valleys of his torn skin all the same. “Maggot...” he spoke softly, afraid of breaking the trance that they both shared. “I want to give myself to you...but not all at once. So many...fucked up things... have happened- I—” 

Feeling the brutal man’s thumb now on his lips, Maggot silenced his fears with the silent motion. Daring the boy to shift his gaze upward into that damaged face, Worm realized that he did not need to give reasons here. 

Kissing him once again, worm pressed his tongue against the roof of the man’s mouth and they fell into each other. Oblivious to the outside world and the invisible clock hanging over their heads.

***

“It will take three days to mix the serum.” The chancellor’s voice echoed in the back of Maggot's head, the warning coming only after he had nodded acceptance. Such power would be all he needed to exact his revenge, he thought. He would not need an army, he would only need himself.

The silver haired viper that he had made the deal with clearly had something to gain, else she would not have agreed to the bargain so readily. Maybe it was a trap? Had she noticed that he had not once looked in to her eyes? 

As of yet he could not tell if the stone woman’s warning was a gift or a curse, but it had saved him from enchantment. This leader of theirs also possessed had the connection, but if she had been born with it or if she had obtained it he did not know.  
At this point did he care.  
Currently this was a ‘get in, get out’ situation. 

“Do not do it.” the stone creature had said to him in the tunnels, right before opening the door to his gilded cage. “I will come see you again, but for now, you have to trust me. Do not do it.”  
Had she not taken the oath for herself?  
Why would she warn him not to do the same?

Although in the end, speculation was always pointless. He would take their oath, letting his flesh turn into indestructible stone. The Compound would fall before him like so many fragments, shattering beneath his sheer force of will. The twisted way that people were treated... it would end.

But then, what would become of his relationship with the small form pressed against him?

The room was growing murky as the synthetic night continued to take over. their forms cradled together in a dangerous place, Maggot could feel Worm’s small form against him. 

He knew that he had only a limited amount of time to still feel another’s touch, and the only touch he wanted to feel was the boy he had fallen in love with. It was selfish, he knew. What would happen when the boy found out that when they left herethings could never be the same? 

In his mind though, he knew it would be for the better. As stone he could protect Worm and make sure no harm would come to him. The boy would grow, and find another man more suited to him. Someone who he could have a normal life with.

Part of Maggot really wanted to be that man. To share chill summer nights wrapped in each other’s warm embrace, in a modest home tucked away, but he knew that it could never be. It was his destiny to exact revenge, to ruin the monstrosity of the building... because no one else could.

Slowly trailing his index finger across his jawline to his neck, Maggot drank in the smoothness of Worm’s skin with his fingertips. His companion had told him that he wanted to take it slow, but Maggot had never had any intention of doing anything else. In the future, he did not want worm to think back and regret anything about this moment. 

Reaching his hand to his mouth, the man tore away the knot that held the bandages around his hand in place. As the filthy cloth fell away, he moved his now bare finger tips to tug worm’s clothing free. As the fabric loosed Maggot ran his palm over the boy’s soft stomach until the his fingers poked at the waist band of his wrapped pants.

Underneath him the Worm’s lips were moist and slightly open as he sighed against the man’s touch, pushing himself up to meet his voyeuring fingers. Maggot could feel all the blood rush inbetween his thighs as he circled his hand around to clutch the boy’s butt cheek, giving it a soft squeeze.

“You can touch it... if you want...” the boy whispered into the now dark room, and possibilities leapt into the man’s mind as he did just that, feeling the loose puckered flesh that was his opening. Worm tensed against him, letting out a pensive moan, anticipating the finger to roughly breach his flesh.

The man had known that he would need the oil from his pack sooner or later, and so now he chose to retrieve it, smearing a small amount over his hand before returning to the bed with the bottle in tow. picking up precisely where he left off. Lightly tracing worm’s hole, he made it slick and wet before pushing in with his large index finger.

Worm reached up with a clenched hand, grabbing Maggot’s vest and pulling him closer to share a brief kiss. His opening was not tight, but it was warm and welcoming, begging to be filled up with yet another digit.

Obliging, the boy was now pushing himself onto those invading fingers while his pants found their way to the ground. With his lower half now free, Maggot had no trouble feeling the boy’s modest cock brush against his bare stomach.

Smiling into the boy’s neck and nibbling on his bare skin, he plunging his fingers deeper and deeper into that soft and slick hole. Worm cried out softly into the night with each scissoring motion spreading him wider, making maggot wish it was instead his disfigured appendage forcing those timid cries out into the open.

It was soon after that he felt worm’s light grasp on his own cloth pants, those small hands working loose the fabric wrapping around his waist, pushing them over his hips before his pant’s joining the boy’s on the floor. Now bare, it seemed that their bodies were magnetized, pushing their hard members against each other with barely contained ferocity.

Bringing his oiled hand between them, Maggot gripped his own scarred dick, smearing the slick substance over its entire length before moving on to the boy’s smaller but just as firm member.

When they were each well coated, Maggot wrapped his large hand around them both, and massaged back and forth. Varing the tension in his hand from loose to tight, and occasionally tugging lightly before quickening his pace. Amidst their fevered panting, worm spread his legs wider and pushed his own dick deeper into the single fisted embrace.

As he clung to the man, Maggot could feel all of the twitches and jolts that Worm's delicate form. The blind trust and surrender, the promised sexual release, the stark nakedness in front of each other, it was something that Maggot had never experienced. 

Looking away from their swollen cocks, Maggot looked into his partner's face. It was a face that could not lie, it was real and it was raw. The dark man’s heart swelled as he was overcome with tenderness, his senses going numb with the confession that then splilled from the young boy’s lips.

“I love you.” He murmured, gently reaching his hand behind the mutilated warrior. Pulling him into a rapturous kiss, Maggot could not help but nibble on the boy's lips. Feeling the boy’s warm tongue invade his mouth he let the organ probe what left of his.

It was erotic, enticing, and all he could think of was how he needed more. The boy said he loved him, and he in turn loved him back. He was now the reason for everything, the reason that he found himself becoming the fucking hero.

Devouring that wet organ, Maggot pumped their dicks faster until the lack of breath made them break apart their kiss. Gasping into the night, he felt himself cumming and his vision went momentarily black. Jolting in blind pleasure, warm semen landed on worm's downy pubic hair. Looking down, he realized that the boy also found his release, cum lightly coating his thick dark hair.

Laying on the large extravagant mattress, covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Maggot pulled the boy gently closer, positioning their bodies lengthwise as worm drug himself deeper into the confines of the man's large chest. He was soon fast asleep.

Stroking the boy’s short hair idly while breathing in his scent, his mind was now reeling. Could he really give up ‘this’?

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Ten  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a really slow writer,  
> party because I usually end up rewriting everything at least twice :^)
> 
> Heck, this whole story needs a rewrite at this point, but i decided to at least finish it first. :^P
> 
> thanks so much for the comments and kudos!  
> they mean so much to me.  
> It is very humbling that you have chosen to read this  
> humble work of mine up until this point.
> 
> I hope to see you again next chapter.


	11. Part Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chancellor reflects;  
> Lilah confesses,  
> A choice must be made.

\----------------------------------------  
Part Eleven  
\----------------------------------------

 

The Chancellor sat in her office, poised in a large smooth chair, leaning back against her large glass desk. She was facing the wall that had been behind her, but instead of a wall, there was now only a solid sheet of glass. The tiles had folded away at the touch of her delicate hand, revealing a window that had been concealed.

Looking out into the grey and bleak wasteland that was revealed, it calmed her. The alien landscape was so devoid of any life, not even tumbleweeds moved through the rubble. There was simply pollution as far as the eye could see. 

Sparsely scattered across the landscape, dilapidated structures were crumbling. In her life time of looking out this window, she had even seen one fall. The warped red metal had disappeared overnight, sinking into the rubble around it under the pressure of time. The dust that remained from the collapse had left a strange cloud; one of red particles that had taken days to fall to the ground. 

Since the explosion, no one had stepped outside. This was concrete knowledge, based on the offical diaries of the chancellors that came before her. As a rule, the post was obligated to keep a daily diary. Part of her training and education had been to read the experiences of the ones who had passed before her. The other part was learning to control the power that they had all been born with. 

It was the power to persuade minds, to make others believe what she wanted them to believe for the time that she was talking to them. While it was inconvenient that the effects of her ability would wear away rather quickly, the victim would remember what was said. they would remember what they felt, and they would go on according what the directions had been given.

It was so easy to have others fall into her trapping gaze. In fact, the only way to avoid her power of mind was if her victim knew about it. She was not as stupid as the stone sentinel had thought. Something had happened and her mind was no longer closed to the world. She had begun to reason... leading her to warn the man of the chancellor’s ability.  
But to what ends? What had happened, what had changed?

It was times like these that she turned to the wasteland to calm her heavy mind. It reminded her of what was really important. The only question that now remained in her mind was; what would she do?

This was the first time one of the men had come into their midst in many generations. It was also the first time they had been confronted with the result of their actions. The actions that every single one bore the guilt of. Now she only wondered how many women were going to change their stance, all because of the sentineil Lilah.

It was a complicated existence that she and the mothers had built for themselves; one on gambles and hopes that would most likely never bear fruit. One that had caused so much pain and misery, all for the belief that they were the only hope human kind had left.

Here at the wall, there was no hiding and there was no denying the reality of the consequences. Everyone served toward the progression of their species and those who could not bear to do it conciously had chosen to take the oath and serve blindly.  
In theroy that was how it was supposed to be.

With the extreme circumstances of her current situation, she had briefly debated on the elimination of all three of them. It would be easy to have Lilah crushed into crumbs and separated into so many jars. And she doubted that the boy or the man would cause much resistance, but there were more profitable routes to take... 

If she let the man take the oath, he would be an invaluable tool to her. His size alone would make him a formidable foe on the battle field, but his skill made him a prime candidate for her doing her personal bidding.

The boy would be great asset to them too, a prime specimen to gage whether the cruelty of the compound had yielded any results. If it had gotten them any closer to the perfect man. One who would not oppress- one who was willing to put themselves before others. One who would be able to contribute to the children that would help make an advanced population.

After all was said and done, the Chancellor’s main mission was to make sure human kind survived. To make sure they preserved scientific advancements and maintain a strong unit, one that could work together to try to reach any others that might be out there... lost in gigantic domes of their own. 

It was written that before the toxicity had spread, there had been others. All over the world there had been multiple biodomes meant to preserve the natural functions of the earth, before human kind had learned to regulate the weather outside.

None of them had known what had exactly had happened, but they all agreed that the arrogance of trying to control things mightier than themselves had been one of the major parts of their downfall. Even the first chancellor, one of the mothers that had created their way of life, had not speculated how the explosion had happened.

She had written that only after just a few hours, everyone on the outside had died. everyone inside had families and loved ones out there and she had written that one of them had her husband die at one of the doors, trying to get in. She had to keep the doors shut, for the sake of everyone inside but in his last moments he had looked at her with confused horror before he turned grey and died.

She had cried, like anyone would. They had all felt the same crushing sadness. the sadness of knowing that everyone they had ever loved had died while they still lived. Their bodies turning hard, crumbling away while the wind eroded them. 

At first the shared sadness united everyone who remained. They we all either vacationers, exploring the native earth on a daily outing, scientists conducting research that depended on their surroundings, or rangers patrolling the vast desert, making sure everything remained stable and secure. 

They had tried to work together, to create solutions and to preserve humankind as best they could, and for a time things had gone well. But the intensity of their situation lead to many things and before long the women realized that it was becoming more and more of a struggle to remain equal.

as a group they had deemed themselves likely to be the only humans remaining; thus children were naturally a top priority. Some of them had fallen in love and created life, others had paired solely to add another life to their pool. It was in that spirit, the spirit of the race of survival, that women were delegated to child care and education.

It had been a noble concept to some of them, but the others argued that those of them that were specially educated should be able to lend their knowledge to the group. It was then that the men argued with them, tried to convince them that because they were women, their place was with the budding life around them.

The chancellor could imagine their confused out rage. The first chancellor herself, having written about having knowledge of construction and traditional ac units, was told that that was not her place. Contributing to the building had masculine connotations and some of the less educated among the men had actually been insulted. While she had not cared what they thought, it was the fact that they were holding her back from doing it.

After continually being denied the privilege to either experiment with the landscape, or try to reach someone on the communication, the other women saw their struggle. While preferring to teach the children was their goal, they agreed that anyone should be able to work in anyway they want, as long as they were indeed contributing.

After exhausting all lines of diplomacy and reasoning, a plan was hatched. If they were pushed to the extreme, they must also become extreme. They would not be told in which way they would live their lives. They would decide it for themselves.

To meet these ends, the Mothers worked tirelessly to create their stone oath. They formulated a serum that would turn a few of them into the stone Goliaths via intravenous means. It had been a system of volunteers that had tried it, and after a few attempts, they had victory.

the first of the warriors had been created.  
Taking the men’s sperm by force to continue the creation of children, they exiled them across the chasm. It was then that they could move forward with their eugenics projects, and believe that if they experimented enough, they will find the next step in the human race.

The women then donated their eggs to project which continued during chancellors two through eight. Men were once again at the wall but there had still been no foreseeable progress. One man, born of an unfavorable combining of eggs, committed suicide after murdering his life partner and given child. Such tragedies hit a small colony hard.

As the 9th chancellor was in training, and reading the diaries of the women before her. She wrote that she thought, “Eight has fallen out of touch with the idea of our conception. She believed that the tragedy was mearly an ill tiding, but i believe differently. More unfavorable pairings will happen, and I do not want to see anyone die in the process.”

Long before the current chancellor, a decision had been made; and she saw no reason to not let it continue. She had written in her own diary that: “Maybe it is not nature that decides the man but the circumstances. Why not let the place become a den of terror? When you push individuals to the breaking point, it will be easy to see which way they splinter.” 

And it seemed that her logic applied to the women at the wall as well. Some of them had become out raged, and they left. It was their right, but they knew they could never return. Having donated their eggs to the project, they were barren. Some of them made lives for themselves, some of them were never heard from again. The purists made their own gamble,she thought.

Personally she always preferred it when a purest sympathizer would take take the oath instead of leaving, but she seldom got the chance to persuade them. The ones who left would vanish during the night through the unguarded doors that were their right.

The Chancellor wondered how the current mothers would react after seeing such a terrifying figure of a man, and how they would see the boy that would be her gift to them.

Life was always filled with indefinites, but there was something in which the chancellor was always certain. As long as she drew breath, she would be the authority here.

***

Maggot lay awake in the dark, holding Worm’s form against him, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth across his soft skin. They had both taken the rest of their clothing off before falling asleep together. With the soft blanket over their forms, Maggot found he felt comfortable.

It was a strange feeling; being vulnerable to someone laying against him. He did not know how to explain it, but he knew he struggled to accept it. Although he loved Worm, he equally feared that he was just repeating what Loruge had done to him.

The boy thought he was his savior; but in truth he had desperately tried to kill him. Would Worm be so willing to stay if he knew the truth?

Looking into his face, a large part of Maggot just wanted to lay there together in the dim room, simply existing in this blissful limbo. The other part of him just wanted to run somewhere falling in love could not hurt him. 

Untangling himself from the boy, he slipped out of the warm bed and placed his bare feet on the cool tile of the ground. Around him the room slowly lighted with a dim glow from above; simply at his touch. The extravagant technology was enough to reminded him that he was deep in unfamiliar territory.

The rookie mistake of becoming secure- feeling comfortable. It was a hard learned lesson, but one he never forgot. In fact it was almost rule number one... Sliding into his loose cloth pants, he looked absently at the only pieces of clothing that had loosely clung to his body during their venture: the grimy tattered bandages covering his arms and his face.

He had merely used them over and over again, the fibers that made up the fabric a tragic mess. A piece of cloth equally as well worn wrapped tightly around his face. He had worn them so long that they seemed to have become part of his skin. 

He had been dawning his leather patch worn vest while thinking about it; thinking about something that he had never given two fucks about before.  
But now, things were different and in turn, it seemed that he was different too.

Inside the room, small solid spots of light glowed in the walls, flickering from the corners of a few select tiles. The colors were either a faint orange or dull yellow and from watching the doctor, Maggot gathered that only a touch was required to have the tile spring forth.

Approaching the nearest light, he reached out his dirty fingers to touch the slate lightly. There was a feeling of soft haptic feedback before the entire block popped free; enabling him to draw out the hidden space easily.

Inside was empty shelving, maybe meant to be for their things, but Maggot did not trust it. Their items remained tucked into his large pack, ready to be grabbed at a moments notice should they have to make quick decisions. 

Looking around the room, he approached another one of the other glowing lights, but this one was orange instead of the previously selected yellow. Upon his touch, the light also vibrated haptic feedback before revealing more concealed shelving. 

This time, though, the shelves were stocked with folded clothing. The colors where dark, slated in a few different hues that included a deep muted green, an evening blue, and a shade of maroon that was was so dark it was muddy.

Curiously, there were two sets of each, apparently one for him and one for the boy. They must have been placed here after we arrived, Maggot thought absently; picking up the larger pieces. The fabric was cool and soft to the touch, unfolding to the floor while he clutched it in his hand. 

After briefly considering it, He slashed the garment into long strips with a knife from his supplies. The maroose color of misery seemed appropriate, he mused, while wrapping his arms and nose once again. Now dressed, he cut a keffiya for himself and then one for worm.

Leaving the two pieces of cloth, his belt, and his pad and pouches out on the other bunk. It was impossible to know when something would happen, but when it did he wanted his weapon of choice to be ready.

Sitting back on the bed where worm drifted soundly, Maggot looked at his slumbering partner, his serene face oblivious to their surroundings. Absently reaching out a hand to caress the boy’s tousled dark hair, it was then that the door of the room clicked open.

A woman silently slinked in from the dark hallway, but Maggot knew immediately that it was the stone woman Lilah. Standing up to meet her, his body ached but not a muscle moved on his face. It was too early to show any weakness to anyone, even if they appeared to be a friend.

She was quiet as usual, but her eyes were absorbing everything. The two beds, one untouched and the other supporting the boy’s bare body, covered only by the white blanket draped over him.

“Have you told him? what you plan to do?” Her voice was barely above a whisper in the stale room. “That you intend to turn yourself to stone?”

Maggot clenched his fists and shot a warning with his eyes. what options did he really have? None, as he saw them. He needed power, and stone skin would give it to him.

“It is a selfish thing to do. Not tell him..” the woman boldly stated, coming into the room farther and leaning against one of the tiled walls. Crossing her arms, she sighed. “But that is not the issue here... I have come to tell you that if you go through with it; you will not be able to exercise free will.”

Maggot’s eyes brows drew together, Is this why she had told him to reconsider? But things did not add up; he did not buy it. She seemed plenty able to go against her chain of command. True, her face showed nothing, but her actions had said otherwise. 

“I know what your thinking; You think that this is an act,”  
Close enough.  
“...but i am here to tell you that I am different because my eyes are now wide open.” Maggot tilted his head. What the hell was this?

“Now there is something else crucial for you to learn; it knowledge that is the core of our everyday life, but that merely makes it an insult that you do not know."

“I need to tell you that we all know about the compound... and in turn we know what happens in it.” It was another truth that hit him hard. “We allowed it to happen. We made it happen-“

Maggot rounded on her and slammed the palm of his hand flat against the wall, landing less than an inch away from her head. He could feel his face warped with blood lust, but she never did not flinch. They locked gazes that were only a fraction away from murder.

The sound of the confrontation had startled Worm awake. half throwing the blankets off of his body and ready to jump out of bed, he stopped and realized that there was someone else in the room. Sitting back down and pulling the cloth to cover up his legs; his face was quickly becoming more alert.  
“What is going on?”

Upon hearing his voice, Maggot jerked his arm away from Lilah. he was moments away trying to pound her into dust, but the boy needed to hear what she had been saying. Jerking his head at her, he bid her to repeat.

His eyes dared her to say anything about the stone oath but she only returned his gaze with a steady dark stare while she repeated only one of the two truths she had spoken.

The boy was quiet and he choked on his words before uttering a strangled, “..what?”

“It may not seem like it matters, but it was true what i said. What I felt upon seeing how you were willing to die for him... it reminded me of the conviction I had in my soul when i took the stone oath. That reminder... that feeling broke me out of the hellish perpetual state of nothingness I was in.

“I have not felt anything in such a long time... everything came flooding back at once.” She looked at Maggot as she said this, directing her silent intensity at him. 

In his cynical mind he thought of how it would be for the better. If he could not feel anything. It might as well be his destiny to only feel love for a brief time. Maybe that was all he deserved.

“Something inside me turned back into flesh. I feel like I am back in my body for the first time in a long time. This wall, it contains the entire desert. It was once a biodome for the study and research whose outcome deepened of earth’s natural environment... It was once of the last places that could still support life...” 

She told them the whole sorry tale in a quiet but urgent voice. Maggot saw Worm’s face twist with repulsion and pain. Drawing up his legs, the boy placed his arms around them. Maggot thought about reaching out a hand to comfort him, but he thought better of it. It was better to hear the harsh realities of life instead of hoping they go away.

He was listening to their reasoning... the wall’s way of thinking, but all he could fathom was screaming. “It started with eugenics, after the men were cast out. The mothers thought they could breed better human beings, like they were animals... Of course it failed, and when the boys continued to fight and make war, a different stance was taken.

“That is when the compound was built. It was meant to be a nursery.. where the boys could be sent to live in the harsh reality of survival. In reality, though, it was a place where the men could get truly barbaric, conquering the weaker like they so desired. 

The cruel became the powerful, and power ruled. Our greatest failure was watching it happen, encouraging it by sending them boys created in vitro... The theory? The more brutal the environment, the more pure one had to become to transcend his environment. It would be considered perfect, undeniable proof of how far human kind had come.” 

She had been walking around the room, her head continued to hang low, much like it had been while she was speaking. It was still the middle of the night and the building around them was ominously quiet, the perfect atmosphere for the absolving of lifetime secrets.

“How could you all just let this happen..?” worm’s accusation sliced apart the silence in the room, before the stone woman slowly began to answer it.

“They told us it was for the better... that it was necessary.... but it never seemed right. We all came from the same tubes and chambers, that makes us sisters and brothers.

That thinking is why I eventually chose to become stone. So i would not have to think about it.” she looked at her hands and slowly curled them, watching the stone plates that made up her skin twist and contort. 

Maggot did not know what he would have said had he been able to say anything. She stood before them, speaking words with such conviction but in a way that left her expressionless.

“please... just leave.” worm decided for him. The stone warrior looked from the boy to him, as if validating that this was indeed the correct course of action. Maggot only nodded, what worm requested was what he would receive.

the stone warrior took a short bow before taking she withdrew. When the door shut behind her was when worm took the moment to speak.

“we should escape” he immediately said, looking into Maggot’s angular face. There was fear in worm’s eyes, but more than fear there was a burning desire to live. Desperate for an answer, worm rose out of bed to cling tightly to Maggot’s chest.

The dark man merely shook his head in answer. They could not leave just yet... Worm must have felt his body sway as he shook his head, because without looking up he replied; “How much longer do we have to stay here?”

Maggot showed him two freshly wrapped fingers. It was the early morning of the second day.

Worm’s face was troubled, but he bit his bottom lip and averted his gaze. “this place, something bad is going to happen if we stay here. I just feel it. Deep inside.” He touched his bare chest with an elegant hand. “It’s like breathing. I just know”

His eyelashes gracefully fanned over his serious eyes and his hair was now longer, slowly folding over, its dark color made softer next to the boy’s honey colored skin. He could not stop himself from again thinking of his desire to savor his taste, but instead only being tortured by the unknown. 

clenching his jaw he grabbed his note pad. Looking away from his partner, he wrote a rare but simple message for him. The note left him open and as he handed it to worm he could not watch him read it. 

After a time, worm replied, reaching his hand out, he drug maggot into the covers behind them. He was still naked, and the man could feel worm’s soft skin against his fingertips. Worm’s tousled hair rubbed against his chin as the boy wrapped around him in a light hug.

His breath was warm against his neck and the feeling tingled. It felt like soft waves of electricity that shot down to his toes. He could not stop himself from wanting more. Worm was against him now, lightly kissing him on the lips. 

‘’You don’t have to worry... I will protect you...’ the note had said.  
“I know,” had been the boy’s reply.

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Eleven  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting to the climax is something that i never really  
> thought would happen...
> 
> so- thanks!!!


	12. Part Twelve

\----------------------------------------  
Part Twelve  
\----------------------------------------

Tomorrow... Only until tomorrow... Worm found himself fixated on the thought of it. His anxiety had only continued to build, but he never said a word about what was troubling him. 

It had taken hours for the reality of it all to set into their minds. Letting it soak into their synapses. After that, both of them simply shared the bed silently, inwardly reeling from the knowledge they now harbored.

The truth of it all was so absurd. Worm had never thought that his life had meant anything, but to know that the whole world was just as meaningless? To comprehend the enormity of it all... that is what took time....that was something entirely different.  
His soul felt heavier that it ever had.

The only thing that gave him comfort was knowing that the man felt the same as him. After the stone woman had left Maggot had just sat quietly on the bed, saying nothing, until worm fell asleep from exhaustion.

When he awoke he felt the weight of Maggot’s large arm wrapped around him, his muscular body pressed against his back. It had been comforting... until he had started thinking...

Now, not even sure of the time, he rolled over to face the man he had come to the edge of their universe with; who had faced with him the cessation of all they had known. Things were happening all around them. He could feel it like it was his own skin... 

After the rope... after the fall... there was now something else inside of him. It was like seeing, and hearing... but while being blind and deaf. At first he had not noticed it at all, but now he could feel it growing substantially. 

Too many things were happening... it was hard to comprehend.. Pushing his face against the man’s chest he forced himself not to think.. not to feel.. they way he had spent all those days in the compound. It was the way they survived... coming so naturally to all of them that he had never cared about the nature of it. 

All Worm could concentrate on was forgetting... there was nothing he could do... with the decision to follow Maggot, Worm knew what came with it... the immense probability of death and 100% percent uncertainty. 

If he had to make the choice all over again; of whether or not to follow Maggot into this world or twists and turns... He knew that he would do it all over again. Imagining a life with out him... with out the outside world.. it was a tragedy that was real for all the boys he had left behind. 

He had escaped his predetermined fate by a role of the dice. Worm never forgot that. Everyday outside those gates, even the bad ones had seemed like godsends. It was something that he had been given by the one whose warmth he could feel right next to him, radiating underneath the covers.

In return he wanted to trust him with his body... but more than anything he just wanted to be with him. Anything could happen when the moment Maggot was waiting for would finally come. After all, there were no guarantees in life and worm wanted to live what little time they might have left together like it was the last.

Even with such strong feelings, Worm still had an overwhelming sense of apprehension. He still felt fearful about being entered again, despite the pleasurable tension that maggots fingers did bring. It had felt so satisfying that he had lost himself in their blissful entanglement, but he knew from experience that fingers could have a much different temperament than members when lodged inside of you.

Rooted safely in his master’s arms, worm wondered about the man's sexual experiences. More than likely they had mostly been the same as his, but it was hard to picture him being on the receiving end of another’s sexual satisfaction. With no doubt it had happened, but he could not get the thought out of his mind... he became fixated on knowing what the man looked like, surrendered to someone else.

Pulling himself closer, Maggot watched with half lidded eyes as worm closed in for a kiss. Their faces meeting, Worm could already feel his body responding to the thoughts racing behind his head, his heart pumping with increased fervor as the moments ticked by. 

It was now so easy to be close to him, even welcoming as the man’s hands now plunged all over his body. They were pressing into his skin, pulling him tighter until worm’s hardness was pushed against Maggot’s half covered stomach. Breaking their kiss, Worm caught those callused hands and halted their voyaging.

“..would you let me... touch you..?” he asked with a husky voice, wanting the man to agree, wanting to touch him, wanting to make him gasp, wanting to see the vulnerable side of him and memorize it. Maybe afterward he could give himself completely to him... but Worm knew for a fact that he had to see this side of the man first...

His eyes were now apprehensive, but after seeing the look of hopeful desire so plain in worm’s face, his breath hitched and he hesitantly nodded.

The boy’s heart pumped a little harder in his chest which pushed blood to the tip of his growing dick. Feeling his member pulsate with anticipated desire, worm ground his tightness against the man in front of him. Leaning in for the kill, he then opened his mouth to suck on his master’s thick neck. 

Now, with the Maggot’s scarred mouth next to his ear, he could hear the man gasping for air. Did he already feel like he was drowning?

To feel some one so convicted and determined slowly melting against his touch and operations... It was a side of sex he had never experienced before. Under the circumstances it felt so right... but would the man consider stopping him? at what point between touching and fucking did it become enough?  
Worm hoped it was never. 

Until this very moment, he had never had the desire to push himself into another man, but now he could not stop imagining the warm and moist confines that he hoped would soon surround him. 

Moving his tongue against the man’s skin, Worm traced the ridges of his flesh continuously. He tasted like grime and sweat, but the taste was sweet. The boy was finding that there could never be enough, nibbling and sucking Maggot’s right shoulder until it was glistening.

Through the fabric of Maggot’s pants, Worm could feel the outline of his dick pressing against him. The fact that he was causing his master such pleasure, it fueled him to continue to the next stage.

Leaning back, he found his place in between the man’s open legs. Hooking his fingers around his light clothing, worm pulled his pants down once again, revealing a scarred and ridged dick curled into the air.

The light hid nothing and worm drank in the view with his eyes. Was he really ready for this? he breathed slowly, trying to push down every memory now flooding to the surface.

If he had to die, he wanted to die knowing that they at least had shared these moments together. Reclaiming what had been a weapon against them, it was now how they could make each other stronger and closer.

With fresh conviction behind his actions, Worm wet his lips and placed a finger into his mouth. He sucked and licked, covering it with saliva, making it moist and glistening.

Pushing the fabric out his way, worm spread Maggot’s knees a little wider as he leaned forward and licked the exposed split tip of his dick. Jolting at the wet touch, the boy steadied his partner by placing a small decisive hand on the older man’s hip. It was a light, but reassuring touch that further cemented just who was in control.

Taking a deep breathe through his nose, Worm took the ridged organ into his warm mouth. Maggot could not suppress a hiss as one of his hands hovered near the boy’s exploring head, using his tongue to caress the cleft that ran along the entire underside of the grown man’s cock.

The moans reaching his ears encouraged worm’s steady stroke. Maggot had seemed always so out of reach, but here he was, lamenting beneath him. After his burned shaft was sufficiently moist, worm used his soft lips to apply pressure as he slowly pulled away.

Maggot almost whimpered at the withdraw, but instead worm looked up, catching his gaze as the brutal man bit his bottom lip, trying to stay silent.

Still holding his watchful eyes, Worm pushed his head back down on his master’s modest cock, bringing it deeper that before-letting the tip breach the opening to his throat. Simultaneously he placed his wet finger at the man’s opening. This would be the moment of truth..

Taking the dick deeper and deeper, Maggot continued to let out steady gasps, finally letting his hand rest on the back of worm’s head. It was a gentle touch, caressing the boy’s growing wavy hair, he was lost to the sensation.

Worm guided his still moist finger to his opening, letting the soggy digit press against a scared and soft opening. Maggot jolted but then relaxed into the touch. Worm closed his eyes and his heart was racing... was this acceptance? was this trust? he did not know but instead of letting time beg second guesses, he pushed into that warm muscle until his finger could not go any farther.

The hand on the back of his head tightened for a moment, but as he continued to swallow that generous penis into his slick mouth, the hesitation around his finger subsided.

It became a steady rhythm between them, Worm swallowing and releasing, plunging his finger over and over again into the man above him, who was growling in his deep voice. It made the hair stand up on the back of Worm’s neck and his own cock ache with want.

Pulling his finger free, he placed it and another into his mouth once again. It tasted like him, and in the growing cloud of lust and desire Worm could only think about needing more. 

Removing the wet fingers he placed two against his master’s hole and pushed deeply. His intrusive digits ventured as far to the hilt as he could manage, before pulling them back once again. Watching his digits fill his the man’s stretched hole, it left his own member wanting.

He could see out of the corner of his eye his own dick twitching. Small pearls of precum had started breaching the surface as he finger fucked a man more than twice his age. A man who could throw boulders, a man now falling to pieces below him. 

He wanted to push three digits in, even four. He wanted to watch that hole grow and contract, he wanted the man to understand that he too could cause him pleasure. That he too could be his everything.

Pulling his hand free, Worm stroked his own dick. Pulling on it lightly he locked gazes with Maggot, wanting to give him a chance to say no but not knowing if he could stop if that moment came.

Situating himself in between those muscular legs, he leaned his hips forward until the tip of his still maturing dick pressed against that warm ring of tissue. 

“Master—“ he let fall from his lips as he pressed slowly into that moist cavity. It was warm and it was close, pressing lightly around his shaft, leaving him momentarily breathless.

He could feel his hair plastered against his forehead and his body had started to sweat as the temperature between them only grew hotter. Slowly impaling the older man, he pushed himself in gently, now daring to look at the figure before him.

Maggot’s mouth was open and he was looking at him, with eyes that were heavily lidded with pleasure. It made worm audibly swallow. The vision of the combat machine surrendered before him- enjoying him. It was something that he had trouble assimilating into his fevered mind.

Locking gazes, worm then began to move his hips, using his hands to push Maggot’s thighs forward, angling his entrance upward. It was a slow and steady pace, but one that made the man close his eyes and lean his head back.

Worm could barely stay sane. The sensations coming from his organ overrode his entire thought process. It was all he could do to not come immediately into that hole that welcomed him. 

The sound of skin and the warm squelching sound of sex filled the boy’s ears as he could not control himself any longer. quickening his pace, he fucked with everything he had. Plunging over and over again, he heard his own voice breaking free from his throat. 

This feeling, it was like standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down into certain death... unable to take a step back. Thrusting himself as deep as he could, he gasped at the intense intimacy. The act repeated became a cadency of primal appetite. Angling himself a little different every time, he finally he finally hit it.

It felt like the tip of his dick was pressing into a warm pillow with every nudge, making Maggot jolt. The grown man’s dick bobbed with worm’s movements, and it was then that he grabbed his own member. This was it, came the boy’s thoughts, as fragmented as his grip on reality. 

Watching the dark man stroke himself, Worm preceded to bulldoze the cavity he was lodged in. He knew it would not be long, looking into those steel grey eyes, he fucked until he fell over that ledge of release. 

The man was quick to follow, thick white semen coating his own stomach as worm let his own load pile up in that blissful hollowness. Twitching and riding the wave of his own orgasm, Worm hoped that there would be a next time. 

Pulling himself free, the cool air of the room hitting his penis made him softly shiver. Maneuvering himself to lay next to the man that he had just made love to, Maggot wasted no time pulling the boy’s form closer.

Making love... is this what it felt like? It had left both of them breathless and warm in an after glow that was completely new. Feeling the man wrap a hand around his face, worm looked into eyes that were raw and honest. 

If he could speak, what would he say right now? worm wondered a moment before being pulled into a kiss that could only be described as passionate. With their lips moving against each other the question now seemed void. He was sure that the man felt the same as he: at home in his arms and irrevocably in love.

***

Bolting up in bed, it was worm who awoke when he realized the man was no longer at his side. Although it was not his lack of a physical presence that had disturbed him.

His body was now duly humming with the objects all around him. It was like what he felt yesterday, but the feelings were going stronger. He could feel the dull humming of things that surrounded him; the floor above, the tunnel to the right, and the people walking by... 

It was surreal... things seemed like they were spread out all before him, like the threads of a blanket, floating in space before him-ready to pluck...  
What was happening?

“Maggot?” he called with his face buried into the bed. Although he knew that there was no one there, it was his vain hope that the man would grunt a reply. Climbing out of bed, he quickly dressed, finding a scrap of cloth, folded neatly to the side. Picking it up, he knew instantly that it was meant for him. Just like their clothing, they were a pair, and worm refused to be incomplete.

Wrapping it around his head, he touched the cloth gently while closing his eyes, feeling the oscillations of matter around him. He could feel energies moving in and out of his field of sense; going in and out different ways. Some of them moved quickly and some slowly... branching every which way as he silently held vigil. 

It was then one energy branched off, navigating its way closer to the boy in the room. Opening his eyes once again, he waited patiently for his guest to enter the room. When the door to his gilded cage finally clicked away from the wall, Worm was not surprised to see the stone woman Lilah enter the room.

“You’re back.” Worm asserted, his suspicions strong but his curiosity stronger. 

“Yes.” she replied, those aqueous eyes were a surreal mirror reflecting all that was around her. “Time is short and the time to act is nigh.” There was a monotone urgency in her voice, as she met the boy’s gaze. “If you want to leave here with that man, you must come with me now.”

It was the third day and Maggot was gone. Was this what he had been waiting for? To slip away, to go it alone...?

Looking at the woman before him, Lilah placed her hand on the door, and looked back, waiting for the boy to follow her. Worm knew that he had to make a decision.

There was no question in his mind that the path was dangerous... but in reality he had known that it would come to this all along. 

It was his turn to save the man who had released him from the twisted confines of the desert’s fake reality. Clenching his fists tightly, he felt the vibrations surging inside him. What it was, he did not yet know, but it’s release was closer than it ever had been before. 

“Take me to him.” Worm felt himself demand.  
This was a new world, and with a new world came a new him. Decisive, assertive, intelligent and now overflowing with the promise of power, it was now or never.

The stone warrior nodded solemnly before opening the door and leaving it ajar for Worm to follow. It was his grand exodus, at the tender age of 14. 

***

Small tubes, much like the ones he had seen hooked into worm were digging their way into his skin. Burrowing themselves deeper and deeper into his veins. He could feel them squirming beneath his skin.

Tucked away in a smaller room connected to the infirmary, the walls of the place were decorated in the same white tiled and pristine exactness that had haunted the room just before it.

Laying on a metal bed, he tried to relax and let the tubes find their mark. Mara had said that they would continue to slowly writhe through his limbs until they lodged themselves impossibly deep into his cardiovascular system, looking for an artery in which to deposit the serum.

With a tube in each arm and near the elbow, and in each leg behind the knee, he anticipated the chemical to start emptying into is body drip by drip.

She said the pain would be great, but it would not be the first time he had been through torment. Physical agony was nothing compared to the pain of the heart... leaving the only person he had ever loved without saying good-bye. He knew he would not have left had the boy pleaded him to stay. Things were better off this way. 

Despite the the throbbing in his chest, Maggot fought back tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. The only comfort he had was knowing that soon he would not have to feel anything at all. 

Was the stone woman lying? Would he loose the privilege of free will? He could not say but what he did know was that it was a gamble worth taking. With strength and potential invincibility there was an overwhelming need to at least try. And for the first time in his life, he felt the weight on his shoulders of what he saw as a noble sacrifice.

It would not be long now... he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, relaxing for the last time in his body made of flesh. At that moment the cool concoction began to drip into his capillaries, and his flesh began to turn into mineral.

There was a sharp, isolated feeling of stabbing at first, before the liquid began to spread, traveling up his arms and down his hands as the same pain now began behind his knees.

It felt like his flesh was being torn off of his body, bit by small bit, leaving only hard lumps of gravel in its place. The torture was relentless as it spread further, forcing the man to grit his teeth to prevent from shouting.

Clenching his jaw tightly, he wondered if his teeth would give under the pressure of pain or if they too would be turned into rock. Eyes shut tightly he tried to ignore the growing hell residing with in his own body... searching for distractions it was then that he thought of worm.

He thought of making love with the boy, seeing that look of bliss on his face, feeling him cum inside him, dick twitching... it had been unlike any sexual encounter before. It had left him gasping and weak, barriers pulled down and naked... absorbing the after glow of the pleasure they had just created.

Accepting the love offered to him from his young partner; that had proven to be the hard part. A dark bastard like him, he did not deserve something so warm and secure.

A man like him- all he deserved was revenge.

The pain had traveled up to his bicep and was slowly taking over his hands. Feeling his digits dance in contorted ways, the serum traveled through the vascular highway of his veins.

Writhing on the synthetic mattress, it was all he could do to not rip the living machine out of his limbs. Those snake like tubes digging and twitching like they were something living.... eating him alive.

Lost in a private hell, it was full minutes before he recognized the rumbling of the walls around him.

Looking up, the bulwark of the room undulated uniformly. Bowing and receding, they trembled until one wall fell apart. A tremendous crash ripped through the immediate space, and the sound of tinkling tiles breaking as they hit the ground.

There, in the dust of it all, was Worm, standing alongside the changed stone warrior. 

Before he could think, before he could feel, worm reached out his hand into the air, gripping the space before him, and pulling with lightning quickness.

The tubes that tore him apart, piece by piece, were now clambering unpredictability in the air—the last of their hateful juice falling down like a gentle rain.

Maggot could not process what was happening as worm strode forward. His gait was confident and his eyes... they shone with inward strength that seemed to burst forth from his young form.

Reaching out his small hand to touch the hulking mass before him, Maggot could not feel the boy’s fingers touching the areas that had turned to stone. It was then that an epiphany forced it’s way into his mind making the warrior silently begin to cry.

small but steady streams cut through the numerous scars on his face as he came to know what true, devoted love was really like. He had known deep down that he would have lost who he was to the ore of his body, but that had been the point. 

Falling to sit by his side, worm tightly wrapped his arms around the figure, holding him tightly, waiting for the emotions to subside. 

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Twelve  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started using a thesaurus.


	13. Part Thirteen

\----------------------------------------  
Part Thirteen  
\----------------------------------------

Looking at them together cemented away any doubts that she had been harboring. There was a distinct cruelty in the desert but there was also a shining ray of hope. It was a matter of inner strength- the good that survived...in the guise of the individual.

Maybe this was the proof that they had been looking for- the proof that humanity had moved on. Or maybe the proof had always been there. The power that the boy now had- it was fearsome, it was exactly what they had needed. Lilah felt then the reality of her mission’s significance.

As for Worm, the choice of using his gift for good or for evil was not really a question; it was more about which ends he wanted to meet. How would an awakening of such magnitude affect any human being? It was yet unclear, but already so much rode on the unknown. She was putting so much trust in two strangers from the deep.

Strangers that had awoken her stone mind- made her question. That questioning lead to thinking, and thinking to rationalizing, leading her to her inner truth, leading her to act.  
Having the notion of what was a belief again- it made her determined to change her environment, it gave her the strength she knew she would need to face the other stone women. She could not hesitate, because she knew that in the heat of battle, neither would they.

They would skewer her without a moments hesitation and it was because of that reason she had to be a killer. Armed with a surgeon’s precision, she had to be strong enough to kill her own kind... it was that or the man and the boy would never make it back out.  
and nothing would ever change.

Standing here, amidst the rubble of the collapsed walls, sirens began their dull wail, echoing from inside the internal webwork that was the wall. The three of them knew that they did not have the time to be inactive. they had things to do if they were going to survive. The clock was not counting down. They were coming.

“We must go- the rest of my kind will be here soon.” she called out, but only worm was looking back at her. His face was dirty, but his eyes still flashed with understanding. Quickly turning back to the man, the boy was saying something softly before standing back up, giving him some room.

Whatever he had said made the beast rise.. the warrior hunched his shoulders, reaching out a hand to help himself stand, revealing his new form before them. From the tops of his biceps to his fingertips, his flesh had become stone, and looking down she saw that that was not all.

His feet and his legs, as far as she could see, we made of the same substance as her own stony flesh, but his chest and his face, those were clearly still human. His face was covered with a light layer of sweat as he grimaced.

Where the stone meet his flesh, the skin was red and irritated, while beads of blood pooled into the gaps and crevices in between the binding of flesh and rock. It was a red substance that she too used to bleed, and as it fell, the thick liquid stained the stone of his arms.

Lilah remembered the agony of changing, but for her there had been an end. When the stone cycle was complete, one would never again feel the pain of the flesh. How a living organism tried to bond with the stone- only time had any sort of answers for questions with no precedence.

After giving him a private glance, Worm nodded and lead the way back to her, climbing through the opening that he himself had made only minutes before. On the other side was the larger white medical room that he had recognized instantly.

The once pristine tiled room now looked like a hurricane had gone through it- the reverberations of Worm’s mental vibrations were strong and a few bodies lay in the corner. One of them being Mara, the head doctor. Lilah had incapacitated them herself after she and the boy had strode in, meeting a strong resistance to their demands.

Lilah felt a twinge of guilt, but she knew that it was for the better. Mara had tried to stop them and if she was not put out of commission then the danger could have potentially been much greater. it was in all of their best interests to isolate the unnecessary variables that could potentially throw a wrench in there already risky venture.

With phase one now over- it was now time for phase two to go underway. Looking at the two of them, she hoped that this act of lunacy would work. Glazing back at her and it was clear that they both now had a growing trust in her. 

They looked to her for what to do; this was her territory and she knew the landscape... and their enemy. Instead of giving them false hope, she laid out the truth. they were equal partners in the upheaval that was about to take place.

“Look; I know you came here asking for power, but you both must see that nothing changes on the inside that doesn't first change here on the outside ring.” 

It was clear that this thought already struck them, but neither had anything to add. They were listening to her. 

“That is why I implore the both of you, you must help me change the things that are happening here. Within moments my kind will begin the hunt for us.. with the intent kill us.” she found herself pausing, defining for herself what she must do.

“We will have to fight them- kill them if they attempt to stop the chancellor’s murder. If we kill her, then the hold that she has over everyone’s mind would be broken.  
“That is our only chance.  
“The others might listen to us; when they are thinking clearly. If we could sway them to see our side.. then the next in charge can call off off the sentinels... or what is left of them...”

She paused- trying not to think to much of it. The lives that they would be saving would far outweigh the casualties the would fall before them. It was too late to second guess herself. She had already chosen a side.

“With the wall’s grip destroyed, things would change in the center. The Compound? it would be destroyed. Life could potentially fall back to the way it was... before the explosion. Although that idea seems to becoming more and more like a dream.”

Worm nodded at that. “Destroying the place- that is our goal at this point.” he replied, his voice still strong in between the intermittent wailing that was the wall’s siren. He looked at his companion, the man with out a nose who also nodded, making eye contact with Lilah as he did so. “If we get out of this, do you agree to help us in return?”

Lilah reached out her hand, offering a gesture of agreement. “Yes. Of course.” she said, as worm accepted the gesture and they shook firmly.

“Thank you. Then as for your plan, we are behind it. We acknowledge your expertise.. and at this point would likely fail without it.”

Lilah nodded. They had become a survival unit, existing on the same wave length, perfectly balanced. Together... she could them failing at nothing. They just might have a shot at this. 

Leading the way to the infirmary’s entrance. She placed her hand on the sword by her hip, nodding as she lead the way to the exit. Leaning against the wall she bade them to follow, ghosting down the hall to their right.

She felt them follow closely as she turned down a narrow corridor, all the while keeping close to those she escorted. As their group paused she heard worm speak lowly, asking her something that was now on his mind. In the shadowed and tight quarters, they sidestepped inches at a time toward a visible entrance.

“Do you know- how having partially changed flesh will affect him..?” She knew that it was only a matter of time before it would be asked. It was obvious that they cared for one another, and they way the change was effecting the hulk of the man.. it was obviously a point of concern.

“Honestly.. No one has only been partially changed before..” She replied, knowing that it was not what he wanted to hear, but on the matter there was really not much else to say.

They were quiet after that, and it was not long until their stealthy procession paused at the intersection at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel they came out into was covered with tiles in a color yet unseen; those of a deep midnight blue. It was the color of the first of three layers that protected the core of honeycomb building. 

Listening intently, she heard movement to the right, but this was the building that she was born in. this was the building that she knew by heart. Before her, it appeared that there was only one choice, the right, but in reality the answer was left.

Hearing the noises from the right would naturally make the pursued quickly dodge dodge away from their pursuers but after about 20 feet the tunnel direction would change, and they would be faced with the very people they sought to avoid.

It was thus, that she ran toward the sounds, feeling the pair falling in line behind her. “Once we get to the second turn, the floor needs to be destroyed- can you do that?” She called to Worm who shouted a brief confirmation behind her. 

It was the whole reason that she had brought them this way. Blowing the top and bottom of this particular route would collapse the tunnels above and below, rendering these sets of entries and exits unusable. The grand obstruction would slow down their attackers immensely, making them back track, buying her small group some valuable time.

 

After rounding the first turn, they made a final swift sprint up and around the second. Pausing just before the third bend, Lilah paused and pointed backward at the tunnel they had just crossed.

“Here, destroy it here,” she said, “Try to make the debris from the top and the bottom stack-do anything to make sure this section is destroyed and impossible to pass.”

Worm breathed deeply, catching his breath before he stood up, pushing his shoulders back with determination. Closing his eyes, he calmed his breathing, inhaling and exhaling, harnessing the power of control by concentrating on the air passing through his body. 

After a few minutes of his calming meditation, he opened his eyes with a new light burning behind those brown irises. Lilah had seen him do this after breaking into the medical wing, but it was no less intense the second time.

It was obvious that he was not seeing the world around him, instead he must have seen a place that was privy to only him. But something no less real. Raising up his hands, his fingers quivered before he gripped the air, and pulling with all his might. 

The effect was almost immediate. The walls rumbled as before- like a large pond caught up in it’s own isolated storm- each ripple becoming stronger with each reach and drag. some pulls came easier than others. The task was so massive, but worm continued pulling, his face.

Next to her stood Maggot- his face slack, hands hanging by his sides, his clear eyes only watching. It must have been hard for him to process the power worm now held at his finger tips. 

The power must have just awoken from inside of him- no doubt triggered by his fall and the state in which his body had lingered during the trek to the wall. 

For an ability that had yet been fully awoken, worm’s truly had the potential for extreme destruction. Because of this it was easy to tell that this was Maggot’s first time being cognizant of it, his normally hostile expression was slack, watching his partner at work.

The ground below them continued to tremble as worm pulled the threads of his private reality. As the final cords were pulled, three floors in front of them collapsed upon themselves. The force of the explosion berated their clothing and after a few moments the dust settled. For a brief moment all she could hear was worm softly panting in the dim and flickering darkness.

***

God his fucking body hurt. That had been all he could think about until now. The raw throbbing where the stone had met skin had not gone anywhere, and he wondered if it would be permanent, forever reminding him of what he had done.

It was a shear display of power that had caught him off guard and left him mind struck. Now, with the sounds of worm’s body slowly heaving, he was brought back to reality. The lighting over head was unsteady as debris continued to fall into the collapsed tunnel, it all seemed fake. 

Now knowing what kind of power Worm had, he wondered how it would affect him. 

It had already started to change him. It was in the way he stood, with his head held high and it was in his eyes- sharp and bright. Did he know that his power surpassed anything anyone had ever seen?

Even with these thoughts racing through his brain, he could not forget that the young man before him was still Worm.

He had become so weak in his fondness for the boy, but that did not erase his memories of the past. Power usually corrupted those who had it...

He hoped that worm would be the exception, that he would be the wild card, but he also knew that he did not have the power to stop him from doing whatever he pleased.

For the first time in a long time, he fell in the shadow of someone else. He had just scarified so much for power... and had lost horribly in the gamble. His meager gains paled in light of worm’s awakening.  
Life was truly ironic.

Now, as the three of them stood in the the dim lighted hallway, Lilah spoke again. “It’s not much farther,” she said, “we have to keep going.” At that she waited only a moment longer before she begain to sprint onward once again. 

Maggot’s arms and legs felt like they were being eaten alive by tiny ants... were his flesh and the synthetic textile finally assimilating? His arms felt like they were buried deep under sand... denser and heavier than before. It was like he could feel them, but they felt nothing...

Reaching out a hand, he lightly tapped worm’s shoulder. The dark skinned boy was leaning over, catching his next wind, but he immediately looked up to face him. 

The section of tunnel around them was now almost black, the power to the connections destroyed by worm’s power... It was hard to make out his face in the scarce light.  
“C’mon!” they heard Lilah demand, her voice echoing off the walls until it reached them.

Worm was lightly sweating and his brown eyes were wide. “I’m glad you are okay..” he said, gaining back his voice before he too followed the pace Lilah had set.

Maggot also pushed his body to follow suit. The honesty of worm’s voice, he found it gave him the strength he needed to push though the pain. With the increased density of his legs, he found it harder to run. It was like he was thigh deep in sand, fighting against it with every step.. but he had to keep up. They had no time to wait for him.

Worm had just disappeared around the bend before him and as he rounded the corner he had to stop himself from running into him. Their procession had stopped dead in it’s tracks. Lilah was silent, the sirens had stopped... and worm was panting something at his side.

“They are all around us...”  
“Impossible!” Lilah hissed, “...unless.... unless...” she mumbled off to the side, as a figure rounded a bend in the tunnel before them. Directly across from them and coming into full view, it was chancellor herself.

Followed by soldiers who started spilling in from the right and to the left, the enemy filled up around them until there was only one way out. And that was forward- to the woman who had the balls to stand before them. It was obvious that she did not take their threat seriously.

At least a hundred of stone warriors, 50 on each side, stacked at least 10 heads deep. Maggot clenched his fists, he knew things had been going too well... nothing in life ever played out right. 

Standing before them, she dressed in a pale grey suit. Her silver hair slicked back her pale forehead, not a hair was out of place. “You think I did not see this coming?” The chancellor almost laughed, “This must have been the most obvious choice you could have picked. I almost expected better of you.... almost.

“ I must admit, though, the explosion was ingenious. I don’t know how you found out about the bombs or even how you got to them but.. well.. it does not really matter now. Because all three of you die here and now.”

bomb? Maggot asked himself. He was not sure what the word meant, even as much as he had traveled. But there was a clarity in what he did understand, which was the well kept secret that was the boy’s power. 

It was a significant card to hold, and it was one that should be kept close to their breast. The problem arose only when they were surrounded by virtually immortal sand sentinels, ready to stab them through the heart with out another moment’s notice. 

Lilah turned to look at them, it was clear that this was what she had been trying to avoid. Thrown directly into the center of the storm- it was clear to the trio that this was now all or nothing. this is where the dice were thrown, and no one was sure if they would come up snake eyes. 

“When she runs- you have to go after her.” She directed to worm, her tone clear and firm, because she did not have time to repeat herself. “We will follow behind you if we can, and try to keep them off of you.”

We? Maggot liked how she presumed to speak for him, but considering the circumstances he let it drop. He knew that she was right. Worm had the largest chance of succeeding, he was stronger than either of them and he had the valuable element of surprise. It was truly a real last ditch effort... and their only chance left.

“Just whatever you do, do not look into her eyes” she finished firmly.  
He did not have time to answer back.

Around them the sentinels rushed forward. With Maggot to the left and Lilah to the right, they used their bodies to protect the surprised worm at any cost.

The dark man felt his stone limbs tremble with the force of their blocked attacks. It was all he could do to keep up, grabbing their blades and twisting them, feeling the pressure of the metal cave under his grip, trying to stay aware of everything that was happening.

His extensive experience of combat made time seem slow, but that did not make his task any easier. There were so many of them, and in the confined quarters the challenge only became more difficult. 

Grabbing one of the stone faces before him, he crunched its face with his hand. Getting a good grip, he threw his hips back and them snapped them forward, using the momentum to throw the body into the crowd that surged at every angle.

Even with a portion temporarily knocked down, his attention was quickly grabbed by rapiers trusted toward his face. Grabbing the blades with his hands he bent them forward, his fists punching the users in the face, forcing them to fall down.  
Dust was already clouding around him.

To his side he could see worm running, his partner disappearing around the corner, and out of his field of view. The great race had begun and he was already getting left behind... 

As he brought his fists down across another head, his fists and his victim’s face chipped away at the impact. The force of the contact paused his body in the moment of impact, and four other sentinels sprang from around him. 

Maggot found himself realizing that they would be lucky if they got out of this together, let alone alive.

***

Worm found himself sprinting after the chancellor, trying to time his breath with every stride. It was the only way he could force himself to go the distance... with his mind so clearly elsewhere.

It was impossible to concentrate, reaching out his hands, he tried to grab the unsteady glowing threads before him, but they kept slipping from between his fingers. Using his power to the best of his ability would take time and training- but unfortunately he did not have either.

Worm knew that he had to preform; but he had never killed someone before. With the stakes so high, he was crushingly aware of his own inexperience in the matter. With this weight on his shoulders, he knew all to well that he had no room for error.  
There was simply no other choice,  
he could not let fear, or sympathy control him.

The chancellor was fast–constantly a step ahead, hovering on the edge of his vision. He could feel her... and he pushed himself to catch up, his lungs beginning to feel dry and hot. this woman, she had appeared old, but she was in physical shape.

It was clear that she was leading him somewhere, that much he knew, but more and more the dark warnings of a trap began to flash in the back of his mind. For what reason other than a trap would she appear? what else was worth more than her own safety?

As they ran, darkness crept into his stomach; That foreboding feeling was even greater now that he could no longer feel Maggot. His and the sand woman’s battle were now out of his field of sense;  
he was truly on his own now.

He could not let them down... he could not let them down...  
Thinking of what life had been like in the compound, he had not forgotten about the other faces that had been around him. If he got out of this alive, it would mean freedom all for all those who had not been chosen that day...

Running in and out of the tiled and colored tunnels, he could feel their chase them moving in one general direction. It could have been the center or it could have been the edge for all he knew.  
All he could feel was the labyrinth of pathways around him. 

Then, as he was turning the bend, the hallway ended into a long room almost instantly. He had no time to react; Suddenly his eyes were flooded with a bright light. Startled, he struggled to stand before he turned to face what was shining in the narrow and small room.

As he came to know its source- it was already too late. Glowing forth at the end of the room was a large image. But it was not a painting or a drawing. Instead this was a moving image, a face in realtime, cropped to only show the broadcaster’s eyes while their voice was magnified around them.

Too late did Worm remember Lilah’s warning;  
he had already looked into her eyes.

Those eyes that looked normal... until one really saw them.. really looked into them. It was then that they would discover the spinning irises that seemed to directly touch your soul. 

The rest of the room no longer seemed to matter to him.... it was just those eyes... endlessly spinning that captivated him, and entranced him. As he looked deeper and deeper into those rotating irises, a voice then made it’s way into his ears...  
It was the chancellor once again.

“Hello, boy...” Her voice was out of breath, but of this world seemed to matter at this moment... “You and that sentinel... you have ruined everything....”

What was was in her voice as she said, that? disdain? disappointment? Maybe it was a mixture of the two because it was not really in the way that she said the statement... it was more of what she had said, and how it crawled it’s way into worm’s mind- nesting there.

“but now...you will help solve it. that man who beds you, and that woman- go back to them. go back to them, let them see you, then use this to cut your own throat. they should be easy enough to handle then.. 

this is what happens when you go against the way things are supposed to be...  
this is preservation. “

Worm felt a knife slip into his hands, but he could not say from where... he felt the smooth hilt as his hands instinctively grasped the blade. He could feel the weapon’s weight in his hands as he felt every intimate detail of it’s construction.

His brain and his body felt bleak and heavy- it was hard to move them- it was hard to process the complexities of thought as his mind agonized over the instructions that have been given to him.

Find them, see them, then slice...  
it was a program that was making it’s way from synapse to synapse, dancing along his processors like a virus. until... something stopped it.

kill himself? but why?

he had to leave here, leave this place. He had to live, not just for him, but for the others that were left- trapped in pointless misery. As his mind struggled to remember who he was or what he was doing, a primal thought took over his mind- He was here to fight.

Subconsciously squeezing the blade, the pain brought his mind completely home.

Flashing into his line of view, the threads were electric on his finger tips. They felt different against his skin... like they were vibrating faster... faster than the walls and construction it was like they were on a different frequency. It was a type of matter that he had never grasped before... and it was exciting.

Dropping the knife he reached out his bloody hands and grasped the fibers firmly. Pulling sharp and quick, there was little resistance, before there was a sharp scream.

The eyes that had been staring at him only moments before were now dark holes in the older woman’s skull. she howled, covering her face and falling out from behind a thus unseen secret place.

“You fucking piece of shit!” she screamed, landing on her knees. “You think you can take this over? you think you can muscle me out? i have a fucking lineage!”

This meant nothing to worm, who watched her wail in agony as the dead monitor above her illuminated the scene in soft, muted lighting.

“You have no idea-“  
“No.” worm interjected, cutting her off from lamenting. “I have a clear idea. I know what this place is. I know that this is the outside... that this is what’s real.” Walking toward her, she jerked her body away from the sound of his feet, trying to open her eyes, trying to see what she could not possibly see.

“About the inside? you don’t know the half of it!” she snarled like a crazed animal- her teeth gritting through the pain. “but of the outside.. you know less than nothing...” As she spoke, he had not noticed her hand falling behind her back, but he did notice the tool that she brought out from behind her.

It was a blinking light on the end of what looked like a symmetrically shaped tube. the red light was ominous as she flipped it open and pushed the only button on what appeared to be a weapon. 

There was an explosion as the lights flipped off and worm fell to the ground, instantly plunged into darkness along with the crazed woman who shared the room.

“just because you got my eyes, do not think that you have won...” she said- somewhere on the floor near his side. worm tried to stand up, but another large crash violently shook the structure all around him. The wall was breaking apart.

“what are you doing!?” worm felt himself screaming “you have probably killed us all!”

“Go fuck yourself- you ripped out my eyes! I would have let the women here live- but this fucking arrogance is what destroyed the outside in the first place-“

“ARROGANCE!” worm screamed into the darkness, struggling to stand on his feet. “You speak of arrogance when it is you who is the most guilty of it! You who segregated- you who thought we were less than people! how dare you accuse me!” 

It had tingled when he had ripped out her eyes, it had felt good, it had made him feel powerful, like he was in control. The golden vibrating fibers became easier and easier to see as they floated before him. It would be so easy... to make her die a painful agonizing death...

but he could not. he could not bring himself to kill another human being. feeling her struggling to stand up in the dark room, she looked like some pathetic creature... but there was one thing that he could not change..

he had to be the one to end this. if he ran away now, then her power would still be in effect. He had to end this now... he had to end her..  
It was her life in exchange for many...and so his next action became obvious...

Reaching up with only one hand, he wrapped his pointer finger and thumb around a small bundle of fibers. they were warm, and their rhythm was just as fast as before. Pulling on them rapidly- her brain and heart exploded simultaneously. It was a quick death... and it was more than what she had deserved.

Panting in the room now alone by his own hand, he could not stay there any longer. Turning, he dashed into the hall way, ignoring the small tears sitting in the corners of his eyes... he had to find maggot, he had to get out of here.

Even though he could sense them, he ran in the direction that he last remembered feeling them, hoping that he could find them before it was too late. Hoping that when he found them the would be alive...

Trying not to imagine finding his fallen master dead or dying, he pushed himself forward into the collapsing world around him.

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Thirteen  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who read this and comment!
> 
> without you- this story probably would have been abandoned long ago...  
> i am deeply appreciative.


	14. Part Fourteen

  
\----------------------------------------  
Part Fourteen  
\----------------------------------------  


Things had not been boding well on their end... Maggot and Lilah found themselves being quickly pushed backwards even before the tremors had hit. The tunnel shook all around them, and he thought for a moment that their surroundings would collapse down on them from above.

It sounded different than the damage that worm had previously caused... it was much more violent, and Maggot could feel the tremors vibrating through the soles of his feet. The building continued to shake, never seeming to settle, and as other sounds of impending doom reached their ears- his worry increased. 

In truth he had not wanted to separate from the boy, not because he did not think Worm couldn’t take care of himself, but for the fact that he wanted to pretend that he could still try to protect him... or die together with him.

It seemed melodramatic, but he was finding out that somethings just mattered more in life. Sometimes maybe things were just meant to be... and in a sick way, it justified the pain of it all. Maybe there really was no such thing as coincidences..

God, what a sentimental fuck he had turned out to be. Disgusted he tried to reason with his heart. Would he have gone through with it had it been someone else? someone other than worm? Was he in truth pathetic enough to have taken anyone with him?  
One tended to think strange things when they were facing death.

The lights flashed as he and Lilah were thrown to the side by the tremors; a deafening boom and a lurching framework carried everyone on top of one another. The force had taken all of them by surprise as he heard lilah shout at his side, “it was bomb!” that word again. “Something must be wrong!”

The hallway went black all around them, and Maggot felt the pressure of bodies pressed on top of his entire frame. The entire floor had rotated on a 45 degree angle, and he feared that it would only be a matter of time before he and the stone woman would have become trapped.

The lights began to slowly flicker, but did not reach their previous brightness. the system was going on it’s last resort, chasing dying energy with reaching finger tips from the structure all around them. 

After struggling his arms free, Maggot used what little leverage he had gained to push the crumpled figures off of his body. He braced himself for what he thought would be automatic retaliation, but was soon surprised to find the warriors rolling off to his sides, like dead stone totems. The small army that had once threatened their lives was now reduced to heaps of rubble, all life within them gone.

He was suddenly keenly aware of his own breathing, of the life that was flowing though what was left of his flesh. The keen deadness in his limbs had never felt so real. Pushing himself free, he found Lilah already waiting for him on the other side.

Lilah’s expression was unmoving, but maggot understood that her exterior was only skin deep. On the surface she appeared impassive, but inside..... her state of mind was clearly questionable.

Looking at the crumpled figures of bodies about their feet, they were now just soulless items. There must have been a loneliness about it, in a split second, wondering if you were the last of your kind. 

Between them, their rejuvenating limbs returned to their bodies at at an eerily slow pace. Maggot briefly wondered if the dust returned to their original owners, or if parts of them were commingling with the fiber of each other. 

Why had she not died along with the other stone warriors? Was it because she had broken free from the chains of mind control? It was not that far of a stretch, she was her own person, making her own decisions. She was her own master.

Turning to him, her black eyes connected with his, before another shock wave shook the floor, knocking them both to their knees. As they braced their hunched bodies, both listening for sounds that the roof might fall in above them. 

As soon as the undulating subsided, Maggot and Lilah looked at each other and nodded. They both knew that they had to leave as quickly as possible- but even then they knew that no matter how hard they tried, there was the growing possibility that they might not make it out alive. 

Maybe twenty feet away, Maggot could see the part of the results from the nameless explosions. The tunnel had been broken and all that remained was the pathway from above coming in from the ceiling, half destroyed, but half usable. 

Lilah immediately headed for the rubble lined path, she seemed sure of where she was going now, and Maggot moved to keep up with her. She was his secret weapon, she knew these tunnels like that back of her hand, and with out her- Maggot knew that he would have been lost. 

Climbing and crawling, they made their way through channels of flickering lights, stepping over the occasional stone body. Quickly making their way through the tunnels, trying to head closer to where they had taken Worm...

Lilah was calling back to him; through the veil of his own mind, as she was reaching for him, pulling his arm, dragging him the way that they had been running. 

His grand plan had fallen like so much shit all around them. He had thought that he could do so much with his life, make it mean something. But now, if his mistake ended up killing them all, would all their effort amount to anything? 

“-there is a stair way leading down, not far from here-“ Lilah had been saying back to him, “If we head that way, we should be able to circumvent most of the leg work. It would also bring us up towards where your packs are stored as well.”

Good thinking, Maggot nodded. Lilah always had her head in the game, and where was his? Lost in his own inner world again. Fuck, maybe he was getting too introspective for this shit.

Right now it was so simple, the only thing left to do after grabbing the packs was to grab worm and get the fuck out. It was like he could almost believe it was possible.

Running for the passage way that Lilah had pointed out, she used her shoulder to ram into the already damaged doorway, breaking free the entry way to reveal dim lighting in a narrow corridor. Although the cramped confines gave Maggot a moment for pause, there was simply no time to find another way...

Plunging ahead, deeper into the collapsing structure, they took as many stairs as they could at once, trying to save even the fewest of seconds. When one did not know how much time they had left, even the smallest increments became worth fortunes.

Finally, as their lungs began to burn, they made it to the top, this time Maggot took his turn punching through the offending door. The tiled metal shattered beneath his stone flesh before he and Lilah took in their new surroundings. 

The new passage was just as damaged as the cross cut they had just left. Tiles fell, breaking as they hit the ground, and the dull hum of electricity hung in the air. It was an ominous setting, and the tension took a moment to seep through his system. There was something else out there... waiting for them.

A grey haze blanketed the ground, of what it was made of they did not know. Last second considerations came too late, as they had already breathed whatever it was in. Curling about their knees, it could have been anything, but neither one of them had the time to think about it. Around them there was only the tunnel, doors half opened along the length of the walls and faint flickering lights from malfunctioning touch sensors.

“In here,” Lilah dashed into a room a few feet away, ducking into the dark entrace that Maggot only vaguely recognized as the one that he and the boy had shared. 

as his eyes cleared he saw through the haze a figure walking. Stopping, with one arm on the door frame, he was mesmerized by the shape of the shadow slowly approaching him. Coming into his line of vision, his heart leapt when he saw it was Worm.

Maggot immediately reached out to him but he did not have to grasp far. Worm had already come in for a tight hug. Feeling the boy’s skin against his chest, he picked him up and held him tighter, absorbing him into an intimate embrace.

“I killed her...” worm managed to mutter into his ear. “I had no choice...” His fingers were in the grown man’s hair- worm was looking for comfort, but Maggot said nothing as he held him back. 

Lilah returned with a start- her face was expressionless, but Maggot could tell by the flash of her eyes that she was happy. “I truly is a pleasure to see you,” she began, but as if on cue, the building shook again, and more than half of the lights went out along with the fading tremors.

Letting Worm fall to his feet, Lilah threw on the boy’s pack, the three of them sparred one last look of solidarity before following breaking out into a run after the stone woman leading the way.

As they passed through snaking corridors, Worm was running next to Maggot. The boy was a mess of sweat and dirt, but his feet remained quick as the man kept up alright with his long strides. 

While the sounds of distant crashes echoed through the building, Maggot and Worm had to concentrate on where their feet fell. The ground was constantly changing with the shifting ground and pieces falling from the ceiling. 

 

Lilah lead them down obvious paths and then hidden ones, ducking though doors that looked the same as all the others, but leading to hidden stair cases and snaking slides.

Before long, just before Maggot was starting to believe that they were long lost, Lilah stopped before one last door. She looked back at them and said, “This is is. This is our shot.” Pausing before hitting the hidden latch, the door slid open and there was only air and sky.

Fuck. Maggot swore in his head. Of course nothing ever worked out for him. Here they were, miles up in this stone building, shit falling off of the sides of it, tumbling to the solid ground below.

It was clear that Lilah had expected something else to be there, something more tangible. She reached out a hand, but it only felt nothing.

Worm had found his way next to the stone woman as he peaked his head through the opening, Maggot watched as his brown hair was tousled in the wind as he looked all around. The man knew that he had to be thinking about something... the boy was bright and full with more potential than could begin to understand..

So when he turned to face them, determination set into his face, the man knew that he had thought of a plan. There, braced against the door frame, Worm looked beautiful against all of the destruction around him. 

Lilah stepped backward to stand by the man, and they watched as Worm closed his eyes and lifted up his hands. He was clenching them now, like he was holding something grand. He moved the unseen object in his small hands, feeling it. shaping it. pulling it.

Before their very eyes, rubble from the collapsing building outside began to form a structure before them, half attached to the edge where they were standing and half suspended over the air, sweat began to form on the back of the boy’s neck.

“Both of you will have to trust me-“ he made out, his face clearly struggling with holding the massive amount of concentration need for his task at hand. “but when i step... you two must be close behind...”

Lilah looked up at him, and Maggot and they both nodded. Shouldering their bags more tightly onto their backs, both of them moved to stand behind the boy, and wait for his signal to step into the abyss so they could fall closely behind.

  
***  


Worm could feel the fibers flowing in and out of his finger tips, ghosting their fibers against his digits, he closed his eyes, and concentrated on what he was making. Because he was not just crafting the ball that would cradle them, he was also creating the ramp that would propel them far away.

He had no idea if it would work, but right now he was the one who needed to believe in his ability. The parts were connecting, fitting and merging, as he molded all of the fibers and held them in his mind’s eye, molding something that he hoped would soften their landing.

Taking a deep breath he held out one foot, and felt Lilah and the man behind him. It was now or never, he thought, pushing his weight forward, he stepped into the ball he had constructed, his partners following him at his heels close behind.

Closing off the opening behind them, it was then that the fine dirt started filling in the empty space, packing them securely, but not too tightly. Somewhere inbetween stepping in and being cradled by sand and dirt, Worm had let them begin to fall.

Worm’s mind was on the pathway that would vault them across massive amounts of space, and no longer in the sphere with them.

  
***  


She could feel the sand and dirt fill in every possible space as they hurdled towards the ground. Was this how the boy thought they would survive? In a life not so long ago, she would have known that her body would eventually reassemble from the rubble. But now- she had conciseness, she had a soft organ resting in between her ears.

Wondering about their fate was now pointless. She had no regrets, and if this is where she would die, then it would be an honor. After all, the wall was now broken. If there was any left over toxicity from the explosion long ago, it would leak into the dome’s core and they would all be dead before they knew it. 

The women had all seen the grey wasteland of the other side. Where dust floated and time seemed to only trickle by. What would it be like- to be killed by something that they could not fight? something that they cannot see?

They had been falling for such a long while... Would she remember the sensation of smacking into the ground? In fact, would she feel anything at all before they all exploded against the ground? Such introspection was not becoming, she told herself. It fact it was pointless.

That was when she sighed and emptied her mind of the calamitous situation that was upon her- and merely waited for the inevitable.

  
***  


To Maggot’s general surprise- the impact was not so much of a hard smack, and more as a type of launch. Instead of being destroyed by the immense surface and strength of the ground, they now felt gravity’s immense pull. The scarred skin on his face was being pulled in one direction, but nowhere did he feel the force of the travel more than in his gut.

It was the weightlessness itself that seemed to have the strength that pulled them along in the catapulting sphere. For a long moment in his mind there was the not so far off probability they were in fact all dead. This could have been some sort of suspension in reality- a sort of forever uncertainty. 

Stranger things had been known to happen, he mused blackly. If they did get out of this alive... his mind went to Worm at his side...  
If Worm saved them all, he would be indebted to him. Their roles would then be reversed.

It was queer notions such as this that filled the dark man’s head as unbeknownst to him the ground grew increasingly closer, and the sphere that they had traveled in hit a sand dune.

  
***  


Air from the outside was now seeping in.. and it was the smell of it hitting the back of her throat that made Lilah realize that she was alive.

She moved her body, stirring the dirt and the sand around her, feeling for all of her appendages, trying to get her eyes to focus. She could tell that there was sunlight shining through small cracks. It illuminated some of the small space around her, but it was still a few moments before she could tell exactly what she was seeing.

To her right, Maggot was stirring beside her, and to her left worm lay with a dazed look on his sleeping face, but his chest continued to rise and fall.

Pushing through the cracks in the device that had carried them safely all this way, she broke free, some of Worm’s impromptu packing falling out in a pile along side her. Where had they ended up, and how the hell had worm’s plan worked so well? pulling the supplies along over her shoulder, she climbed out on her hands and knees- eager to see where they had fallen.

It was quickly evident that they had come along way inside the biodome. Looking around her, she kept searching for some sign of the wall, but on any horizon there was not even a hint. Part of her heart fell. Had she wanted to see it crumbling to the ground?

Then, taking a deep breath, she waited for the carcinogens to fill her lungs, not knowing if she should anticipate any pain as her brain died of oxygen deprivation. Standing there, breathing for a while, she allowed everything to sink in.

The fine grain dirt had for the most protected them, the impact had kept them all together, but because she could no longer hear the crashes of the wall- it was evident that they had traveled pretty far away. 

Looking out at the desert, boulders and rocks were strewn about, but in the distance she thought she could see the swaying of grasses and small trees a few hills away, near the edge of the land.  
Could they for once be so lucky?

Turning around to face the tile and clay projectile that had saved their lives for the meantime, she decided to spens a few moments more inspecting the edges of the breaks she had made when exiting the shell.

She could see the layers upon layers that made up the shell. They were compressed tightly, bonded together like they were melted with flame. Although Lilah had seen herself that there had been no fire involved. 

Clenching one edge of the structure, she jerked with all her might and snapped a slab of the part free. More of the fine grain mixture tumbled out onto the ground, and the movement stirred Maggot and Worm. The each moaned, rubbing their faces, looking out at her with dazed reactions.

Reaching inside the pod, she stretched out a hand and clenched Maggot’s stone shoulder. Pushing her fingers into him lightly, she shook him, trying to rouse him awake. 

Jerking his arm up, he signaled that he was still alive, but it was still a few moments before focus came back to his grey eyes. His first reaction was to reach out for worm, making sure that he was alive and well. Sighing softly he then looked at the orb around them, and then at Lilah. 

He and the boy were both filthy, covered in blood and dirt, their clothing barely the color that it was when they had dawned it. Should she tell them about the toxic air? She briefly struggled with the ethics of it before deciding that it was for the better if neither of them knew.

No... It was better this way, if they did end up dying, she would make sure that she would not look in their faces. Tonight she would make sure that she went far away from here...

In Maggots face was the same amazement she had experienced upon awakening. “It worked,” she heard herself saying with a half smile. Maggot then looked over at worm, and she watched his face break into a soft smile as well.  
Indeed it had worked.

  
\----------------------------------------  
End Part Fourteen  
\----------------------------------------  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter and epilogue will be up in the next few days...


	15. Part Fifteen

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Part Fifteen  
\----------------------------------------

The night had come upon them as they settled down on the banks of the oasis. Setting up the tent had come as easily as it had before, and a rare fire was burning not far away from where they sat. 

Using the pot from the smaller bag, Worm had boiled some water for the two of them. The now luke warm liquid sat in cups cradled in their hands as they both listened to the crackling of wood and the sounds of animals all around them.

Putting and keeping everything in two separate bags had proved to be useful, since they had lost nothing in the chaos of their escape. Maggot could not help but wonder though, how long it would be before they would not have to travel with hardly anything at all.

Eventually, Worm would be able to make almost everything they needed. His power was incredible, and even though he sat next to the man in the fading daylight in the exhausted body of a very young man, Maggot knew there was something bigger just waiting to emerge out from him.  
Something almost.. god like... he imagined.  
After all, if not for worm, they all would have died. 

Lilah had left them with the excuse of looking at the positioning of the stars in relation to her chart- but Maggot could tell there was another reason for her leaving them alone tonight.

The wood snapped as another stick fell into the heart of the flames, Maggot coming back to reality when Worm spoke to him. “Is this what it feels like...? to be a killer..?” he asked.

The boy had not said anything since they had escaped and Maggot had not pressed for more information. He knew that when Worm was ready his thoughts would come tumbling out- and here they were, spilling into the space that only the two of them shared.

Earlier in the evening, after first arriving Worm had gone about his routine when putting up camp. Throwing himself into the tasks, trying to find some semblance of comfort in menial labor. It was not until he had exhausted his to do list that those words came out... soft and quiet. 

Lifting himself up, the young man moved in closer, draping his arms around Maggot’s stone shoulders and placing a leg on either side. He could feel the boy’s breath on his face as worm settled into his lap, bringing his lips up to the man’s ear- allowing more words to fall out under his breath.

“Death feels so... empty..” kisses now began as light nibbling on his ear lobe before trailing all down his neck. Laying one of those slight hands against Maggot’s face, he broke away from kissing him only to look at him with his brown and mezmirrizing eyes. 

They engulfed him as Worm told him the last of the words that he would utter that night. “.. but when i am with you.. i feel complete. i feel alive- and i am not afraid.”

He came close now, so close that he could feel the heat radiating in between their bodies- the warm promise of sex hot on both of their minds. In the firelight he must have truly looked grotesque, but worm did not skip a beat before placing his lips on the man’s own with a gentleness that made his dark heart skip.

Sliding his hands onto the boy’s hips, he clenched onto them, pushing that round and firm ass deeper into his own growing member. At this moment, Maggot wanted nothing more than to be tucked inside that warm hole while he trailed his hands up and down worm’s narrow back.

God he missed that feeling of flesh on flesh, it’s memory hot in his mind from their last encounter. That time he had let the boy take him.. it had felt intimate, personal but now he needed something else... something more demanding.

Maggot wanted to pound the fuck out of that soft hole while looking Worm in the eyes, letting him know that this was different, that this was his pledge to him. From this moment forward, they would be equal lovers.

Laying the boy down on the the fabric they had been sitting on only moments ago and close enough to the fire that it would keep them warm, their clothes eventually started falling off, and their bodies became naked in the night.

He wanted to devote himself to worm, he wanted the boy with the smooth brown skin of childhood, that warm dark hair and those limitless eyes. He wanted to forever worship him.

Moving his hands from those narrow hips to the boy’s inner thighs, he forced those delicate legs apart, making way for him to bring his face down to Worm’s navel. letting his lips lightly trace over the ridges of his stomach, he kissed and nipped, giving every part of Worm the attention it deserved. 

Below him the boy began to jerk with every small connection that their skin made. Next to his face, maggot could feel his soft little cock twitching to life. With only a downy layer of pubic hair, the soft organ was truly a beautiful thing to behold.

Maggots mouth watered as he yearned for a full tongue to tease small gasps from the boy’s throat, but alas, he was now built for killing instead loving.

His own thick and scarred member grew in between his massive thighs as he kissed all around the base of worm’s dick- the musty smell vaguely reminded him of a grown man- except with all the signs of boyhood.

Maneuvering his mouth to hover above the leaking muscle, Maggot let saliva collect in his mouth before scooping up that soft pink organ into his own wet hole. slowly he let his lips vary the pressure as he bobbed his head on worms budding erection.

Bringing the head of worm’s dick deep into his mouth, the man used his deformed tongue to flick the tip of the boy’s dick back and forth rapidly as cries of soft pleasure exited his youthful lips. 

Bucking into the hole that was offered to him, Worm writhed in the sand, spreading his legs, leaving vulnerable areas free to the sand and sky. the boy was surrendering himself to him: his lustful nature exciting maggot with every subtle movement, the man’s eyes taking in a visual feast.

The urge to thrust himself into his small partner was becoming unbearable. Here it was, the warm tunnel offered to him with yearning hands with its owner pulling at the opening, showing that dark maw to him eagerly- wanting it to be filled up.

Maggot was going to fuck him this time. He wanted his thick member spreading the boy apart as he thrusted into that generous hole deeply and thoroughly. He wanted to come into that small frame after pumping for as long as he could- and he wanted worm’s body to drink up the light abuse.

“Do it-“ Worm called up at him, his voice was thick with need- he wanted it, maybe he even needed it as much as Maggot did right now. “I want you to belong to me...” the boy called up again, reaching up a hand to caress the man’s vulgar scars and small nipples. His chest hair that was left admits the scaring was collecting sweat over the anticipation. “I want you to come inside me..” he finished as a whisper, and spread his hole out more, his dick shuddering slightly.

Maggot almost squirted his load, small pearls were beading at his tip as worm reached for some oil out of their discarded clothes. As he filled his delicate hand with it, as they both gasped when his palm connected with the grown man’s shaft.

Worm tried to wrap his fingers around the the organ, but found that they could not even connect. “So... thick” worm gasped, squirming his ass closer to Maggot’s thighs. God, with that small hand rubbing his length, covering his dick with the slick and shining oil, he could not help but thrust his hips into the light grasp.

Worm made a tight ring out of both of his hands while his master finished coating himself, bucking his hips into the hands offered, Maggot let his head fall back as his face looked skyward. 

When he was with Worm, he could let himself go completely and surrender to the passions that he had in his head. But enough was enough, and while he eventually wanted to cover the kid in his own cum, tonight was not the night. Tonight he would blow his load inside of him, filling him up until he overflowed. 

Over come with desire he pulled his dick free from worm’s grasp and pushed the boy’s spread eagled legs up and over him. Now the angle was right, he could see that pink hole offered to him while he hovered over his partner, letting the tip of his erection find the opening. 

His dick hit lightly against the boy, thinking for a moment that his well oiled member was not going to fit inside the providing opening. True, it had lost that pucker long ago, but the size difference still might be too great. Pushing forward he tested the waters, feeling the ring of muscle briefly clench, he continued enter Worm, soft moans of pleasure floating up to his ears.

The hole stretched to accommodate him, slowly but gradually the beginning of his erection disappeared into that cavern, and the boy gasped out below with a million soft yes’s as he pinched his own nipples and reached a languid hand below him to lightly touch his own balls.

Fuck.. god damn did this kid want it... pushing his own knees into the sand, he moved worms arms up to drape around his neck and head. The boy instantly untied his hair, letting the inky blackness of it cascade over his head.

Wrapping his legs around maggot’s waist, he made himself open and relaxed, waiting, and sometimes even whimpering for the man’s dick. “Maggot... Please...” he whispered, before pushing his ass out more, accepting the protruding erection into him, letting it stretch him out even more still.

Maggot had to concentrate on everything he had not to blow his load as he pushed deeper and deeper into that soft awaiting muscle. He found himself moaning and biting his lip, shivers racing up and down his spine. He could feel his wide member pushing that hole apart as he fell in deeper and deeper into into Worm’s brown eyes, their breath blanketing each other’s cheeks.

He was in all the way now, soft little yelps came from worm’s lips but Maggot was far too deep in pleasure to notice them. Worm was shivering slightly as the man lost himself in the repetitive motion, the sensations overwhelming their concepts of time and space.

Feeling that ring of muscle drag along with his dick as he thrust in and out- it was enough to put him over the edge. After craving this for so long he never wanted it to end. 

While Worm drug his fingers through the man’s hair, he shifted his grip and made him come in for a soft and sweet kiss. No longer were they master and servant, now they were partners. Equals...  
Lovers.

***

It was morning, and the sun now illuminated the tent with a soft glow. As the light grew in intensity, it woke up not only his body but also his mind. his first reaction was to pull cloer to Maggot, instinctively curling closer to his smell.

It was then that he realized they were both still naked, his bare flesh feeling the stone of Maggot’s limbs as he curled against the grown man’s chest. The man’s body was rising and falling, his face for once peaceful against the fabric of their bedding.

Worm had never seen him like this before, so unguarded and so relaxed. They had both changed so much, they and faced death together, and now grown together. They were now a survival unit- the most valuable asset in a world this cruel.

Worm was sighing, letting himself fall back into the warm comfort of their bed when he heard foot steps approaching. Sitting up, he quickly reached for his own pair of harem pants, his light tunic and maroon head wrappings. Throwing the fabric over his head and lightly tying it under his chin, Worm then kicked some shoes before stepping over his lover.

As he passed over his head, Worm caught Maggots eyes looking after him but the expression on his face was not concern. The man probably already had deduced who approached them based on the sound of their footprints.

It must have been Lilah who approached, then, returning from her forays over the land.

Passing through the tent flaps, he stretched and greeted the stone woman while she approached in cool and controlled strides. Hailing the boy as she came closer, she nodded a respectful hello.

“It is good to see you feeling better,” she began, laying her hand on his shoulder. The day before she had left the group quickly- at first with the excuse of fetching water- but as soon as the pot was boiling away she had excused herself again. Saying something about scouting and star plotting, worm had snuck a peak at Maggot’s face. 

He was not buying any of it, but he choose to nod slightly. Her still human mind could have been grieving- and who was he to question an equal in their group? She had proven her trustworthiness time and time again.

The tips of her fingers clenched his shoulder lightly, it was a comforting and soft gesture. “You saved our asses back there,” she began, appreciation apparent in her liquid eyes as they met his from inside the sand cloak. “If it were not for you, none of us would be alive right now...”

Caught of guard, worm hoped that this is not what had been bothering her. They were a unit, and they looked after each other now- that was all there really was to it. Only because he felt like he had to say something, he mustered out a brief “thanks” before ending the exchange. He would have to work on accepting praise.

“So did you find out where we are?” Worm quickly changed the subject- he was not used to being the object of gratitude and was beginning to feel uneasy in the quiet that permeated around them, but it was then he could hear the tent flaps rustling.

Lilah’s face confirmed it as she said hello, and as the boy turned to tell him good morning Maggot managed a nod and a faint smile before stretching. Shrugging his shoulders and and popping his neck, he immediately began taking the camp down. He knew they would be moving soon, and worm knew that maggot trusted him with the logistics.

“We are actually either incredibly lucky or you are more amazing than we originally thought,” Lilah half joked. “Out of curiosity, were you thinking about anyplace in particular while we were inside that ball? Anywhere in the back of your mind?” 

Worm paused at her question before replying, “It’s funny you should ask that... There is always someplace in the back of my mind..” Maggot paused for a moment behind him, before continuing his task. He knew exactly what the boy was talking about.

Lilah nodded, the answer apparent, “So it turns out that we are only about a day’s walk away from the compound.” Worm could feel his teeth clench and the fibers of vibration alive at his finger tips. The building’s destruction would be so simple, now that he had power...

“If we can get close enough- we wont even have to step inside.” Worm said precisely. “We wait for daylight to come, and then, when they bring all of the boys outside in the morning, we destroy the compound along with everything in it.”

Maggot grunted in approval and Lilah agreed. Worm knew that it was a good plan, it would leave them out of harms way- and had minimal variables. The compound was a place that ran like clockwork, and it was now that precision that would be their down fall.

As Maggot wrapped up their blankets, Worm redirected his attention to putting the various cook ware away along with their now cleaned, folded and wrapped change of clothes. Vaguely he wondered where they would be when they needed them again.

After everything was put away into their packs, the trio began walking- their now full canteens making a dull rattling sound at their sides- it felt strange to Worm that everything was soon to be finished.

He never dreamed that he would return here, not afraid but empowered. Worm knew that he would feel the building crumble at his finger tips- and did not give a damn about the ramifications. Just like he had vowed, the compound’s reign of terror would come to an end.

As the day changed into night, they arrived on the outskirts of that terrible place, There was a warm glow emanating from the insides of the walls along with the faint sounds or activity that filled the air.

For the bastards living it up in the inside, it was a night like all the others, but little did they know their lives of wanton pleasure and pain would end at sunrise. Worm could barely wait. Staked out in tent with warm blankets, the three of them waited in darkness, anticipating the morning. 

The situation brought forth old memories that made his stomach want to churn, and he wondered if it was the same for Maggot. His partner had a fierce demeanor about him, but Worm knew that he could and did still hurt inside.

It was like this until morning, the silence and the waiting. Until the atmosphere began to illuminate with the warmth of the sun. Hunched behind the crest of the rocks that had shielded their approach, they watched as a line of boys slowly snaked out into the pen they were kept in. That he had been kept in.

Worm swallowed and extended his fingers, feeling for the fibers of the tower and wrapping them around his fingers. It was showtime, and he knew that he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

***

Inside the main tower of the compound, less than a mile away, calamity was soon filling the structure with a slight buzz. A few moments ago, the main stone pillars of the structure had been shaking and crumbling. chunks of the rock were falling to the ground- and this new phenomena did not seem to be an isolated event. 

Everyone was looking for any sort of clue as to the cause- between the rumblings in the pillars to the tremendous cloud of dust that had come through the tunnels the day before, rumbling like a great beast in the basement.

Upstairs, in the very topmost cell was Master, his dark eyes heavy over his clenched fists.... Something was wrong with this picture... He had seen the wall, he knew that they gave him his supply of human flesh through the web work below them. But what was had changed? It was evident that a shift in power had taken place- and suddenly he did not know what future this structure had, if any.

A thirst for power had put Master in the position he now occupied, and that same thirst is what kept him there. What he provided was a service to these men- and if you looked at it from the stone warrior’s point of view- you could even get righteous about it.

Everything had a balance, even this sick world, and he was just the scale, forever weighing the world within and without. Slamming down a small glass of a very strong drink, he tried not to kill the next man that barged into his chambers on high alert.

“Sir!” the scorpion that tumbled into is office choked out, as he fell to his knees he gasped for air. It must have been time to evacuate- God he could not believe it had come to this. 

Grabbing only his blade and his bottle of spirits, Master jolted up out of his seat, ready to travel quickly but with dignity. Only- he never got that chance. The entire building was shaking now and the floors had begun falling. The pillars must have been destroyed from the inside out. Impossible.

No one was prepared for it.  
That was what made it so perfect.

Out on the sidelines, the trio watched as the building that had haunted all their of their minds collapsed into the mound of dirt it would be remembered as.

Out in the pens, the soldiers were confused and the boys stared at the collapsing structure, most likely hoping that the rubble would have crushed them to death as well.

They did not know yet, that their lives were really just beginning.

 

\----------------------------------------  
End Part Fifteen  
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***

  


\----------------------------------------  
Epilogue  
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It had been almost a decade since the compound went down, and relative harmony was slowly making it’s way across the biodome. Some of the flesh women had slowly made their way down into the towns but since they no longer had their eggs, It was hard to stay optimistic about the specie’s survival.

Where would the children come from now? It was a question on everybody’s minds as they watched each other age for a decade. With no one to replace them when they died, everything would be for naught. 

Maggot and worm had enjoyed a peaceful life together so far, the stone limbs somehow allowing maggot to age at a slower rate. Worm on the other hand had grown into a stunning and warm handsome man. 

He practiced controlling the vibrations that surrounded him every day- and with Lilah and the brutal man as his combat trainers, he knew that he had become ready. Ready to go to the outside- ready to look for other signs of human life.

Indeed that is where he and the man stood now, on the edge of the rubble that had been the wall, with only a light backpack and a devil may care feeling in his heart. He and his partner had once changed this world for the better, and now it was their turn to save it once again. 

A few of the friends they had made were there to see them go- and he looked out at the grey wasteland that waited for them. Worm pulled his keffiya up to cover his mouth as Lilah gave him a warm embrace. Maggot as she shared a hand shake that turned into an embrace that was much the same. They would both miss her- but someone had to look after things while they were gone.

Worm could now move the majority of things effortlessly, and Maggot wondered if he had been brought along for little more than company, but either way, they both looked at each other and smiled.

Heading out to salvation or towards doom, the only thing that mattered was that they were with each other- attempting to conquer the bleak grey wasteland that had once been called earth.

\----------------------------------------  
The End  
\----------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled when writing this story... not only because it is my first novel but because of the type of story that it turned out to be.
> 
> It really bothered me as to why I wrote it- mainly because writing anything takes a lot of time and persistence. Why was I compelled to write a novel such as this?
> 
> But in the end i realized it represented a lot of inner turmoil about myself and my experiences. I learned a lot about myself- and this story seems to be the product. Writing allows me to be honest with myself, so for better or worse, here it is.


End file.
